


Shaman King: Welcome to Hogwarts

by RainonyourBack



Category: Shaman King (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Boarding School, Fluff, Gen, Gryffindor vs. Slytherin Rivalry, Hogwarts AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2020-05-12
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:55:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 38,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23944279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RainonyourBack/pseuds/RainonyourBack
Summary: Jeanne is on the train to Hogwarts for the first time in her life. She really wants to have a great year. That's not counting on everyone else's plans. Too bad that she's a stubborn hellion.
Relationships: Iron Maiden Jeanne & Tamamura Tamao
Comments: 4
Kudos: 2
Collections: Shaman King 2020 Big Bang





	1. All aboard the Hogwarts Express

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [A l'école des sorciers](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/614299) by Realgya. 



> This is a humble translation of a majestic work of Realgya’s, over there on fanfiction.net. Neither of us are making any money from this, but if you like this, I’d appreciate if you went and left a comment on her work! This was really special to her and it’s a masterpiece and I love it and I hope you love it too.
> 
> This is…. This is a crossover, of sorts. She calls it a “Potterverse AU”, that is to say, forget about any shamanism. Or rather, don’t. Our favorite SK characters are going to be wizards and witches, but ghosts are still there, in their own forms.
> 
> The first part has nine chapters. Main characters will be Jeanne, Tamao, Hao; it widens up afterwards. In the first part, there’s a little… game. The game is “Where’s Waldo?” Except Waldo is Hao. He’s weaving in and out of the chapters but he’s…. subtle about it. Tell me if you find him. I loved playing that game when I first read.  
> Hope you have fun reading this!
> 
> Also since you guys are so cool you get to weight on the title! Because I can’t decide!

**Part I: Sun at Summer’s End**

Excitation. Anxiety. The two feelings battled over Jeanne's heart as she leaned on the tip of her toes to press a kiss to Marco's cheek.

The day before, he had given her a tight hug. A rare treat. He wouldn't give her another one, not here, in front of all these people hurrying to the train.

"The train will leave in about ten minutes. You should get to your compartment," he said, pushing up his glasses.

Nodding, Jeanne forced on a thin smile, and then climbed aboard behind a young man with green hair, a tweed cape, and a heavy suitcase. Hers was already put away under her seat, placed there by Marco himself. It took her a few moments to find the carriage. As she approached, Shamash hooted gently.

Walking to the window, she cracked it open. Marco was right in front of it, and she could tell they were both equally nervous. He pursed his lips, no doubt to keep from asking for the hundredth time that she sent Shamash to him right after her Sorting.

“I’ll say hello to Luchist for you.”

No doubt the wrong thing to say. She hadn't been able to help it. Marco's face darkened even more. Still he gave her a slow nod.

 _You can still change your mind_ , his eyes said, hiding behind his square glasses.

Jeanne knew she wouldn’t, though. She had made up her mind.

“I will come home for Christmas.” Hopefully that would comfort him, to some extent.

“Christmas is for the family,” he replied.

Jeanne smiled.

A loud hiss came from the locomotive. Most of the people on the platform stepped back, but not Marco; instead he walked up, raising his hand towards her.

Jeanne reached out and squeezed her father’s fingers in hers.

“I will see you soon,” she whispered.

“I will see you soon,” he repeated, as if sleep-talking.

The whistle blew again. They let go, and the train started moving.

Jeanne waved through the window.

“Goodbye,” she said, but she couldn’t be sure she had been loud enough for Marco to hear.

The train picked up speed and soon he was only a very small white man on the horizon before suddenly vanishing as the train turned. Jeanne closed the window and sat back down. It was only then she realized she wasn’t alone in the car.

“H-hello,” the girl in front of her stuttered. “Sorry I... I just... Sat here without asking. There was room, and...” She didn’t finish.

“You did well,” Jeanne smiled. “My name’s Jeanne. What’s yours?”

“Tamao.”

“It’s very nice to meet you, Tamao.”

“Y-you too,” the other girl said, cheeks pink, before turning her head away. She clearly was uncomfortable.

Jeanne sized her up quickly. Her hands were squeezed tight on her knees, her shoulders were tense, and her face was half-hidden behind pink bangs that Jeanne found beautiful. How could one get hair so colorful? How unfair. Maybe she dyed them.

“I am also a bit nervous,” Jeanne admitted. “But I am sure I will have a grand time at Hogwarts.”

Tamao looked up towards her and nodded quietly, apparently not sure of what to say. Then Jeanne’s attention was drawn to the cage on the seat next to her. “Are they both yours?” She couldn’t hide her curiosity as she pointed to the two tiny owls sleeping there.

“Y-yes.”

“They’re adorable,” Jeanne cooed, coming a little closer.

“They - you shouldn’t wake them,” Tamao whispered hurriedly. “They get very annoying otherwise.”

“Are they in love?”

“No, they’re... They’re both boys.”

“How are they called?” Jeanne obediently moved back to her seat and straightened the wrinkles out of her white dress.

“Ponchi and Conchi.”

“Who’s Ponchi, and who’s Conchi?”

“Conchi has dark spots on his eyes.”

Jeanne leaned in a little to examine the two owls.

“I can’t see it very well,” she commented, a little put-out. “Is there no other way to differentiate them?”

Tamao blushed.

“Conchi is lighter, too, right? And Ponchi redder.”

“It’s... It depends on the light,” Tamao whispered.

“Do you really have to depend on their eye markings? There’s no other way?”

Tamao blushed even harder, though Jeanne was at a loss why.

“Ponchi has.... He has bigger...”

Tamao threw her hands in front of her face, too embarrassed to continue.

“Ponchi is bigger?” Jeanne wasn’t sure if she understood it right. “It is not very obvious either. But I suppose you are used to them, so it would be easier for you than for me. So they bring your mail?” The first subject seemed exhausted.

“Yes.”

“Thanks to them you must be able to write twice as many letters,” Jeanne thought, out loud. “Even when one’s tired you can ask the other to pick up the slack.”

“Not... Not really. I... I have to send two letters every time. Otherwise they fight and they destroy the letter.”

“But you always leave them in the same cage?”

“No, no. It’s just... Easier for me, for the trip.”

“But then how could they fight for the letter?”

“I often leave them out. It’s unbearable otherwise.”

Jeanne struggled to imagine how two such small owls could be unbearable. Whatever could they do?

She had to admit she also preferred to leave Shamash out. He liked it better that way.

She glanced at her eagle-owl, who was closely watching Tamao’s two feathered friends from under his half-closed eyelids.

“He’s beautiful,” Tamao commented softly, catching her right in her fawning over Shamash.

“My father gave him to me for Hogwarts,” Jeanne commented. “So I could write him. I think he liked Shamash because they are both all white.”

“Does your father have white hair, too?” Tamao’s voice seemed to quiver a little.

“Oh, no, he has blond hair. But he’s always wearing white,” she corrected, before starting to swing her legs slightly.

Then they were quiet, only interrupted by the train’s huffs and puffs. Jeanne kind of wanted to go around the other compartments to talk with other, older students and ask them all her questions about Hogwarts, but she didn’t want to leave her new friend alone. And she wasn’t sure that, timid as Tamao was, she’d agree to come with. She probably would be far from thrilled.

Jeanne took the time to take her in a little more. Tamao had pale skin, a face in the shape of a heart, pretty slanted eyes and pink lips. She must be from somewhere in Asia, which explained both her slightly-higher voice and her little accent. She had some trouble with her “r”s. They kind of sounded like “l”s.

“Every Flavor Beans, Chocolate Frogs, Pumpkin Pasties,” said a hoarse voice from the hallway. Does anyone want something?”

Jeanne jumped to her feet and peeked into the hallway to glimpse the trolley witch.

“She will get to us,” Tamao said.

But Jeanne could barely stay in place. She was now realizing all of her fear was gone. It was all excitement now.

It was her first time on the train. And the first time she made the trip to Hogwarts. She was on the edge of her seat.

“Two compartments before she’s here,” she told Tamao.

The other girl smiled. Jeanne forced herself to sit back down but left the door open, to be really sure the witch wouldn’t pass them by.

“Which House do you hope to get into?”

Confusion spread over Tamao’s face.

“Gryffindor is for the brave. Hufflepuff for the good, Ravenclaw for the smart and Slytherin for the ambitious. I don’t really know where I want to go. I think everything would fit me. But I think my father wants me in Gryffindor. Bravery, honor, justice, those are very important values for him.”

“Oh,” Tamao simply said.

After a few moments, she opened her mouth to say something, but the lady was at their door now, and Jeanne focused on her.

“Want something, girls?”

“Oh, yes,” Jeanne nodded excitedly.

Then, like the good and well-mannered child she was, she asked for a little (or a lot) of everything that was on the trolley and sat back down with stars in her eyes amidst a sea of sweets.

“I think,” she said, frowning a little, “that gluttony is one of my faults.”

She wasn’t very sure, but every time she was asked to name three it was the only one that came to mind.

“Do you want any?”

“N-no thanks. I made myself a bento.”

“What is it?” Jeanne watched curiously as Tamao drew an odd box from her suitcase. What she had in there seemed delicious: fish, rice, seaweed, vegetables, and all wrapped in such a cute box... But Jeanne had a rather sweet tooth and thus kept to her treats. Marco _had_ made her a sandwich, yes, but she had to keep some space for the chocolate cake that came with it.

As she started on her dessert, Tamao put her box away and drew out what looked like plain yogurt.

“Here, take some of mine,” Jeanne said, pushing some of her cake towards Tamao.

She could not let her new friend eat plain yogurt when there was special Marco chocolate cake available.

“Oh, no, thank you,” Tamao said politely, “I have my own dessert and I won’t be hungry after.”

Jeanne frowned a little more, unable to understand how Tamao could feel full from just yogurt. Which she was pretty sure was flavorless, given the color.

“Do you want to try it?”

Try flavorless yogurt? It was to her the oddest idea.

“I made it,” the other girl added, blushing.

Jeanne was tempted enough to take one bite.

When she swallowed, her eyes widened. Neither the taste nor the texture were what she expected.

“What is it,” she dared ask.

“Tapioca pearls and coconut milk. And I put in some bananas. It adds a little extra something that I really like.”

“It’s.... Good,” Jeanne nodded.

It still did not hold a candle to Marco’s cake.


	2. Welcome to Hogwarts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “When I call upon you, come sit on the stool and wear the hat,” Silva explained.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One of my scrapped title options was: "Or Jeanne’s Extraordinarily Bad No Good First Year at Hogwarts".

“I really like ‘Alohomora my dear’ but I can never remember the singer’s name,” Jeanne explained to Tamao. They were both recounting their favorite bands and titles.

“Celestina Warbeck,” Tamao supplied helpfully. “I prefer ‘A Cauldron Full of Hot, Strong Love’.”

“Is that another song of hers?”

“Yes, it’s her most famous title.”

“I’ve never heard of it.”

“R-really?” Tamao frowned, clearly confused.

“Really,” Jeanne confirmed after a few moments. “It rings no bells. Maybe if I heard it, I could recognize it, but the title just doesn’t mean anything to me.”

Tamao stared for a few moments before quietly, very quietly, starting to hum a rhythm. Jeanne’s eyes widened.

“Oh yes! I know that one! Can you sing it?”

“Oh, no, no, I can’t.” Tamao was blushing.

Jeanne knew she should not insist... And yet she did.

“Then can you hum it? Please!”

And in front of her pleading Tamao ended up giving in.

* * *

Jeanne got to enjoy her friend’s singing for a whole hour. To her great surprise, Tamao knew all of her favorite songs, and agreed to quietly sing all of them, just for her. Either she had an infinite well of musical culture or she had the exact same tastes as Jeanne’s.

Tamao was singing something from the Ice Men, something about the world’s confines and no-return moments, when their door opened violently. The singer immediately became mute, and it took Jeanne a few moments to snap out of her reverie. She then discovered the tall blonde who had just entered their car.

“Ah, Tamao, there you are. Yoh isn’t with you?”

Tamao blushed hard.

“N-no,” she said quietly.

“Tsk. Where did that good-for-nothing get off to?”

Without any other form of ceremony, the girl closed the door and left.

Jeanne stared at the door for a few moments, completely blown away. The unknown girl was much older than her. A sixth or seventh year pupil? Probably. Not that it excused her rude manners.

“You know her?”

“That’s Anna. Kino’s student.”

“Who’s Kino?”

“Keiko’s... mother.”

“And who’s Keiko?”

“Mikihisa’s wife.”

Sensing that this conversation was going nowhere, Jeanne let it go.

She lied down on the bench and blinked a few times.

“I should take a nap,” she said out loud.

Tamao nodded.

“But...” Jeanne continued. “I don’t feel like it. I can’t wait to be there.”

Her friend smiled.

Jeanne wondered where Marco was, and if his own back-to-work day was going well, and from there she fell deeper and deeper into her thoughts.

In front of her, Tamao got out a sketchbook.

* * *

Time went by slowly. Still lying down, Jeanne was only half asleep, curiously watching the other students pass by their car through the glass door. A redhead with pigtails and overalls. A brown-haired girl with long hair and a big beige cape. A frowning boy in shorts and a yellow jacket. Another one, with a white shirt and a tie. That last one was so small Jeanne had trouble thinking he was even a First Year.

Anna also walked past their compartment again. Twice. The second time, she wore a black witch’s dress, and she had changed her red headband for a pointy hat.

The sky started growing dark at around six. Jeanne rose to walk to the window and watched the sunburnt colors of dusk.

“We should put on our robes,” Tamao said at her side.

Jeanne nodded and drew her suitcase from under her seat.

“Can you help me,” she asked Tamao, and turned her back towards the other girl. “It’s hard to get my blouse off alone.”

She saw neither the pink cheeks nor the trembling hands. She only sensed that Tamao did as she was asked, and so she gave her an enthusiastic “thanks!”. Then she flung her black bodice and the white dress off of her.

Now in her underwear, the young girl took to folding her clothes neatly, before searching for her black witch robe in her suitcase.

Next to her Tamao switched outfits in record time and as discreetly as possible. She actually put her robe on while still in her pants, and only took those off after that.

“Rou.”

Jeanne raised her head towards Tamao’s two small owls. Their eyes were open, and they seemed to stare at her, cocking their heads to the same side.

“They are cute.”

But before she could add anything, Tamao threw her cape above the cage, hiding them from her view.

“When they’re awake they’re loud,” she said apologetically, and also pretty awkwardly, as she put her things away.

Jeanne pushed her case back under her seat and sat back down. She slid her fingers in Shamash’s cage and started petting his head softly. He seemed to appreciate the attention.

“Shouldn’t be too long now,” Tamao mumbled as she sat back down too.

“I can’t wait,” Jeanne said dreamily.

* * *

Jeanne could barely sit still when the train started to slow down. It was very subtle at first, and then more obvious, and then it came to a total stop. A voice had filled the train just a few minutes before, telling them to leave their things behind, so they did. The two girls got off, following the crowd of students. Feeling very small in between all these bodies, Jeanne very simply grabbed Tamao’s hand to not lose her.

“First Years, here,” she heard a little way ahead.

Rising on the tips of her toes, Jeanne managed to zero in on a tall weird guy with a purple cape and a revolutionary hairdo. He held a lantern above his head to be easily noticeable.

“C’mon, First years, to me! Everyone else, to the carriages, you’re used to this by now!”

“Come on,” Jeanne said to her friend, tugging her forward.

“Ah, nice to see you Tamao. How was your summer?”

Jeanne blinked as the odd guy saluted her friend.

“Y-yes,” Tamao said.

Delicately she slipped her hand out of Jeanne’s, a light blush on her cheeks.

“I must go with them. See you later.”

She smiled, blushed, bowed slightly then disappeared in the crowd of older students.

Jeanne stayed there, dumbfounded. She had been convinced that Tamao was like her. A first-year student. But if that wasn’t the case, then she could have asked her all manners of questions about Hogwarts! About the Houses, the Sorting, the classes, the schools, the teachers...

She was so shocked she almost didn’t follow her group when the wizard who led them started down a narrow and slithering track into the dark.

On the way there wasn’t much talking. Barely a few whispers.

Lost in thought, Jeanne followed their guide obediently.

“Name’s Ryu, by the way,” he introduced himself as they crossed what looked like a forest. “I am the Keeper of Keys and Grounds of Hogwarts. You will see the school soon.”

He had barely finished saying it that they rounded a corner and suddenly the castle was there.

Perched atop the mountain, Hogwarts cut a gigantic silhouette that seemed to rise from the lake to graze the clouds. Its tall and thin towers were like fingers reaching up; a thousand of lights shone upon its walls.

Jeanne let out a little gasp of amazement. She brought a hand to her chest; she could feel her heart under her clothes, suddenly beating harder and faster.

Boats carried them across the lake, with no rowers or propellers in sight. All they had to do was contemplate the castle. Jeanne only looked away from Hogwarts at the very end, when the boat she was sharing with two boys entered a tunnel at the bottom of the cliff. It came to rest on a rocky shore. Jeanne almost twisted her ankle. Twice.

Under Ryu’s guidance, they left the boats and climbed a long narrow passageway dug into the very rock. It led to a large grassy expanse. At the end of it stood a small staircase and, on top, a heavy oaken gate.

Ryu drew his wand and tapped it against the wood. It immediately opened and Jeanne felt her excitement climb a few degrees. Behind the doors, she saw lights, and impossible staircases, and a ceiling so high she could barely see it, and just there, waiting for them, a tall wizard with long black hair. He wore very pale beige robes, which surprised Jeanne.

“Silva,” Ryu greeted.

“Ryu,” he replied, before turning towards the new students. “Come with me, please.”

Jeanne crossed the grand entrance hall like her classmates, glancing curiously at the four hourglasses there, before entering a smaller room obviously meant for them. If she listened hard, she could hear the laughter of older students from behind one of the doors. Anxiety immediately welled up in her stomach. She had managed to chase it away in the train, with no small help from Tamao, but now Tamao was gone and the fear surged again, brighter than ever. Brighter than it had been before she left Marco.

‘Breathe,’ she told herself. ‘It will be okay.’

“Welcome to Hogwarts,” said Silva, calling their attention to him. “I am your professor Silva Pache, the deputy Headmaster of our school. You may call me Silva and not use my last name, which could create confusion, as you will soon understand.

In a few moments, you will come through this door to enter the Great Hall, where our traditional feast is taking place to mark the beginning of the year. Before you can partake, you will join one of the four Houses of Hogwarts as part of our Sorting ceremony. This is a very important ceremony. Once in your House, it will become your second family. You will attend classes with students from that House, sleep in the same dormitories, spend your free time in the same common room.

There are four Houses in Hogwarts: Gryffindor, Hugglepuff, Slytherin and Ravenclaw. They are all equally worthy of your respect. There is traditionally a friendly competition all through the year between the four. If you have good grades, you will get House points. If you break our rules, you will lose them. At the end of the year, the House with the most points wins, as you can imagine.

The ceremony will become shortly. I will come get you when everything is ready.”

And with that Silva slipped out of the room.

Jeanne had palpitations and she clasped her hands at her back firmly to avoid twisting them. Around her the other students started to whisper. She opened her mouth, wanting to say something too, but none of the people around her were paying her any mind.

“Ah!”

Jeanne jumped a little and turned to face a wall, from which a ghost had just sprung. A few students let out shrill shrieks, but Jeanne had heard of the Hogwarts ghosts from Meene, and she was not completely taken aback.

“Sooo, those are our pretty First Years,” said the ghost as it cocked its head to the side.

She couldn’t explain it, but he reminded her of a lizard. Perhaps because of the sort of bandana, or the translucent helmet he had on his head. There was a reptilian design to it.

“You shouldn’t be here,” another voice replied, a little angrily, as a second ghost drifted halfway through the wall. “They are waiting for the Ceremony.”

“Yeah, I know. Wanted to see them,” the first ghost said.

“You can see them at the feast.”

“It’s no fun if I can’t see them first.”

“Keep that up and I’ll get Ryu,” the second ghost warned. His clothes reminded her of a Japanese samurai.

“Ah sod off, Amidamaru,” the first ghost growled.

But as Amidamaru faded out of the room, doubt overtook him.

“Hey! You’re not really going to get Ryu, are you?” And the lizard ghost also hurried into the wall.

Jeanne shook her hair out of her face and focused once more on the door behind which Silva had vanished, attempting to chase the ghosts from her mind and think about the oncoming ceremony. Soon enough the door opened again and the deputy Headmaster smiled at them kindly.

“Come on, follow me,” he said.

Jeanne took it upon herself to lead and started after Silva, soon followed by the rest of her cohort.

They crossed the entrance hall, then went through a large gate leading to the Great Hall.

Eyes wide, Jeanne looked up towards the candle-speckled ceiling, still attempting to follow Silva. They walked through the main path, in between two long tables where the older students already sat. At the end of the room stood the professors’ table on a podium. They faced their students.

Jeanne recognized Luchist among the teachers and met his gaze.

He nodded discreetly towards her, signifying he had seen her, and something churned in her stomach. It felt like a small spark. A flame. It had been so long since she had seen him...

Silva levitated a stool in front of the First Years and placed an old pointy hat on top. To the new students’ great surprise, it started to move, and then to sing.

Tamao had a better singing voice.

“When I call upon you, come sit on the stool and wear the hat,” Silva explained. He then drew out a parchment, unrolled it and started reading.

She was anxious again.

Jeanne watched the new students walk up to the stool, not really seeing them, and not really reacting to the various tables’ clapping. Where was she going to be sent? Where was Tamao? She didn’t even know what House she was in.

She attempted to look for her friend’s pink hair in the room, but before she could find her, her respite expired.

“Jeanne Maxwell,” came Silva’s voice.

Forcefully swallowing her fear, Jeanne bravely walked to the hat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What did you think? Where will Jeanne be? Where is Tamao?
> 
> And, most importantly, did you find Hao? :P


	3. Nice to meet you, neighbor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Hey Horokeu, nice to see you didn’t misplace your stomach this summer,” a feminine voice suddenly piped up.

“Bravery,” was what she heard first as the Sorting Hat touched her hair. “Determination, pride, a need for justice... Yes, there is very little hesitation to be had here.”

“Gryffindor!”

The shriek was so loud it hurt her ears. It all went so fast. She could barely blink twice before she was sitting at a table and everyone was clapping for her.

When everything was quiet again her heart was still thumping hard in her chest.

Silva continued calling names and Jeanne watched the last First Years go. It felt like she was watching a movie. To imagine that she had been with them only a few minutes before felt... Surreal. Once the last of them was sent to Ravenclaw, Silva took both stool and hat away. Luchist rose from the High Table and Jeanne felt her chest tighten.

“Welcome to all,” he said, very simply. To hear his voice, after so long... It gave her shivers. “Welcome, and enjoy the feast!”

The hungry children saluted his words with loud cheers. Under Jeanne’s widening eyes, plates full of food of all kinds. All of them were mouth-watering. There were so many she wasn’t sure how to choose. She stared at the food, salivating.

“Hey, you’re Jeanne, right?” The boy at her right asked.

Jeanne gave him a nod.

“Do you want potatoes?”

“Yes,” she said, suddenly aware of how hungry she was.

He moved the plate towards her. “Here, take some of those. They’re hot and with that sauce in front of you it’s just amazing.”

“Thanks,” Jeanne smiled as she followed his advice. What is your name?”

“Horo-Horo!”

“That’s...”

Jeanne frowned but didn’t finish.

“A weird name? Everyone says that but I don’t think it is. Not more than Jeanne is.”

Said Jeanne did not comment. Another thought came to her. “Would you happen to know a girl called Tamao?”

“You know her?”

“We met on the Hogwarts Express,” Jeanne explained.

“She’s...”

He half-rose from the bench to look for her.

“There,” he said, pointing.

Jeanne finally discovered her pink-haired friend. She was politely listening to her classmates’ conversation. “She’s in Gryffindor,” she said out loud, all too excited to be quiet.

“Yes! In her fourth year.”

Jeanne’s mouth opened in a wide ‘oh’, but she managed to not make any sound. She would never have thought the timid young girl could be that old.

“What about you?”

“Make a guess,” Horo-Horo winked, before grabing some more meat.

“Also fourth year,” she guessed. “Or fifth?” He was wincing.

“Sixth,” and he growled a little.

Jeanne wondered if she had offended him somehow.

“Hey Horokeu, nice to see you didn’t misplace your stomach this summer,” a feminine voice suddenly piped up.

Jeanne choked on her food as the empty seat in front of her was suddenly filled up with the ghost of a young girl. She had to be Jeanne’s age.

“Damuko, it’s been so long!” Horo-Horo’s voice was warm. “Let me introduce you to Jeanne, she is new. Damuko is the Gryffindor ghost,” he added for her.

“It’s, ah, nice to meet you,” Jeanne fumbled, trying to gather her wits.

“Nice to meet you, Jeanne. Come to me if you have any questions.”

“Understood.”

“Damuko’s great, we’re really lucky to have her,” Horo-Horo added.

“Is there a specific ghost for each House?” Jeanne was curious.

“Yes,” he replied, before taking some more pork ribs and letting Damuko do the talking.

“The ghost you see over there at Ravenclaw, that’s Mosuke. When he was alive, he was a wand smith, and also a friend of Amidamaru’s, who’s Hufflepuff’s ghost. You’ll know that one for his long hair that he has in a ponytail. He’s also wearing samurai clothes. He was a great duelist when he was alive. As for Slytherin, well, they have Bason.”

“Bason?”

Jeanne thought Damuko would explain further, but she stayed silent.

“Some say he was a Dark wizard,” Horo-Horo said.

Damuko winced, but did not pipe up.

“All the people in Slytherin are weird anyways.”

“Horokeu,” she scolded.

“What? I’m just saying. It’s true.”

“I’ll wait until you say it to Ren’s face,” the ghost smirked.

Horo-Horo tensed and gave her a dark look, but he did not reply.

After attempting without success to taste every last one dessert available, Jeanne realized she couldn’t eat even one more bite and stared at the rice cake she did not get to try. At her side, Horo-Horo swallowed three donuts.

“Do you have siblings?”

Damuko had floated away to talk with the other new students.

“No, I...” She hesitated. “I don’t know who my parents were. Nuns took care of me until I was adopted. What about you,” she asked, hoping to change the subject.

“My younger sister, Pirika, is in Hugglepuff. You can’t miss her, she’s the only one with hair as blue as mine. She’s... I can’t see her. She must be somewhere at that table.”

Jeanne looked for blue hair at the Hugglepuff table but soon got bored of it. Desserts then vanished, and the Headmaster rose once more. Just like before Jeanne started feeling fuzzy as she watched him.

“Now that we all had some refreshments, it is my duty to remind you all of specific rules and regulations that apply here.”

“Here he goes,” Horo-Horo mumbled.

“As First Years ought to know, and older students to remember, you are not allowed to enter the forest around the school, aptly named the Forbidden Forest. It is also not allowed to practice magic in the hallways outside of class, or to bring in unauthorized products in the castle. As there are exactly four hundred and sixty-two items on the unauthorized product list, you are encouraged to consult it in the office of our head janitor, Mrs Bismarch, and familiarize yourself with it.

“Oh, only two more than last year,” noted Horo-Horo in a surprised whisper.

Jeanne kept herself from asking him to be quiet.

“To those who may not know her, I am glad to introduce to you the professor Rutherford Patch. She will be in charges of Astronomy from this year on.”

The students started clapping. Jeanne noted that the Ravenclaws were a lot more enthusiastic, though.

“She was in Ravenclaw - she finished just last year. Head Girl. She’s brilliant. She already finished her thesis!”

He didn’t have time to continue before Luchist started again.

“I must also inform you all that Hogwarts will host the Triwizard Tournament this year. That means there will be no House Cup or Quidditch Tournament.”

Whispers started to fill the hall and Jeanne watched, a little lost, as the other students instantly became very excited.

“For those who have yet to learn about the Triwizard Tournament,” Luchist cut in, “I will give some explanations. It started as a friendly competition between the three wizard colleges: Hogwarts, Beauxbâtons, and Gandhara. Every school is represented by a champion, who faces three highly magical tasks. The champions will be chosen by an impartial judge, who can determine which students are the most apt to participate. However, minor students will not be considered. You will need to be seventeen or older to apply.”

Horo-Horo choked on his pumpkin juice at that.

“Delegations from Beauxbâtons and Gandhara will arrive at the end of October. They will be our guests for the better part of the school year. We are counting on you to be gracious towards our guests, and to support the chosen champion of Hogwarts with all your heart once they are selected.”

The Headmaster paused a moment before continuing.

“I believe it is now high time for all of you to get to bed. You can follow your House Prefects to your dormitories. They will give you the passwords for your common rooms. Good night to all.”

Luchist sat back down after these last words. Jeanne could not look away. His words kept echoing into her head. She realized that Marco would surely be part of the Beauxbâtons delegation coming in October. He would have to. He _was_ the Headmaster of the school.

After all the trouble she had gone to to be emancipated and come study in Hogwarts. She couldn’t keep in the choked laugh at the thought that her foster father would soon - so soon, in just two little months - arrive at the castle and spend the entire year with her. He had to know. He knew. He knew and he hadn’t told her.

“What are you still doing here? Your prefect just left!”

Horo-Horo’s question drew her out of her thoughts before they could turn into full-blown anger.

She stared at him for a few seconds, without really seeing him. Maybe she should go see Luchist, even though he was at the Head table.

“Come on, I’ll get you there,” he commanded, and she thought better of it.

She followed Horo-Horo without a word. She really didn’t know what to think about all of this.


	4. First night, first day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “By the way, Choco told me to tell you the Gryffindor password was “Omnioculars”.”

…

Leaving the Great Hall, Jeanne struggled not to lose sight of Horo-Horo in the middle of the loud crowd. In the Entrance Hall, in particular, she felt small amongst the older year pupils. Especially as she realized her ‘pleases’ didn’t work. The easiest way to go about it would have been to hug the walls, but Horo-Horo cut straight through without slowing down, and she had to sneak her way behind him. He almost vanished at one point, and she panicked a little, stumbling into the students in front of her.

“Sorry, sorry,” she mumbled, looking for Horo-Horo.

A brunette with earrings raised an eyebrow as she inched her way past him. A blonde, pigtailed girl glared.

She then noticed her guide going around the wide marble staircase and almost ran to his side. She caught up as he stepped in an empty hallway and frowned. Why were they not following the mass of students going upstairs?

“There’s a shortcut to the fourth floor,” Horo-Horo winked, before pushing aside a tapestry.

Jeanne opened wide, surprised eyes as she discovered a coiled staircase instead of the brick wall she was expecting.

“You’ll get used to it. Hogwarts is a real maze, and you will probably get lost a lot at first. When you’re lost, ask the paintings, they’ll help.”

Jeanne nodded, eager to show him she was listening.

“Horo-Horo!”

Right as they were climbing the stairs, they saw a young man with tangled green hair but a perfectly straight uniform. Something that couldn’t be said about Horo-Horo’s.

“Hi Lyserg. Manta isn’t with you?”

“He’s a Prefect, he’s escorting the First Years.”

“Ah, right.”

Jeanne took a step forward to remind Horo-Horo of her presence and waited for him to introduce her.

“Speaking of First Years, here is Jeanne. Jeanne, this is Lyserg. Ravenclaw. Sixth Year, just like me.”

“Lovely to meet you,” Lyserg said with a dazzling smile.

“Lovely to meet you too,” Jeanne replied, a little thrown by that smile.

He was handsome, for sure. Charming. With big sparkling green eyes and a truthful smile. Jeanne immediately liked him.

Horo-Horo stepped inside the secret passage and Lyserg bowed to let her go in front of him. How gallant! It made her all giddy. Jeanne stepped in front of him and started up the stairs, holding on the wall so as not to fall.

“How come you did not follow your House prefect?”

“I didn’t see them leave,” she admitted.

“Lucky you that you got Horo-Horo to save the day,” he gently teased.

“Pretend I can’t hear, why don’t you,” grumbled the boy in front of them.

Lyserg laughed, and the sound was soft and clear. She was delighted. A little more and she would be entirely smitten.

“You heard Luchist, right?” Horo-Horo groaned. “Only the adults can participate in the Triwizard. That’s so unfair!”

“That is entirely reasonable. The trials can be dangerous. Pupils used to die during.”

“To die?” Jeanne was shocked.

“Don’t worry, it doesn’t happen anymore,” Lyserg said. “Every precaution is taken so that it doesn’t happen again. Security is one of the Professors and the Ministry’s priorities, otherwise they couldn’t run it.”

“I still can’t believe it’s only for the 17-year-olds. I’ll be 17 in three months! Yoh can compete and not me!”

Jeanne squinted. The name rang a bell but she could not remember where she had heard it.

As they emerged in a fouth floor hallway, she hid a yawn in her hand and blinked a few times to get used to how bright the hallway was.

“I will leave you now, it’s shorter for me to get through here,” Lyserg said. “By the way, Choco told me to tell you the Gryffindor password was “Omnioculars”.”

“How did he even learn that? And why did he tell you, when you’re not in Gryffindor either?”

“You know how he is. He always knows everything,” Lyserg said with a smile. “Good night.”

Then he walked away with a wave, to which Jeanne responded mechanically.

“Good night.”

She was starting to feel very sleepy and focused on the one thing she was waiting for: sinking into a comfy bed. Horo-Horo grumbled low in his throat before leading her towards the Gryffindor Common Room. Jeanne followed her through the maze of hallways and staircases as they continued climbing.

“There are more than a hundred flights of stairs in the school,” Horo-Horo commented. “And they like to switch places. It’s rough the first few days. It took me a whole week before I knew my way from the Common Room to the Great Hall on my own.”

At length, without her really knowing why, the two reached the painting of a very fat lady clad all in pink.

“Omnioculars,” Horo-Horo said.

The painting moved and Jeanne discovered a round hole in the wall. Horo-Horo climbed over the ledge and she followed, leading them both into a large round room filled with red and gold tints. Jeanne spied a fireplace in which roared cozy flames.

“Remember that password: Omnioculars. And with that welcome into the Gryffindor Common Room. Your dormitories should be up these stairs. You’ll find the student names on the doors. Usually, First Years are on the first floor.”

Jeanne nodded silently.

“You’re dead on your feet, aren’t you,” he mocked gently. “Go get some sleep. Tomorrow morning they will give out the timetables at breakfast.”

“Okay.”

“Good night,” he said, giving her a soft shove towards the stairs.

“Good night.”

She climbed the first step.

“Horo-Horo,” she said, stopping on the first step with a sudden “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it,” he smiled, before leaving towards his own dormitories.

Jeanne climbed the twisty stairs and found on the very first floor a door with her first name on it. She didn’t really pay attention to the other names on the door. She just pushed it open. The dormitory was empty; she was the first to get in.

Noticing her trunk next to one of the beds, she didn’t think twice and went to it. She then slipped into her pajamas and burrowed under the covers. Sleep came upon her so fast she didn’t even hear her roommates when they got in, about ten minutes later.

* * *

The next morning, in spite of all the questions raised by the Triwizard Tournament and Marco’s persistent intrusions into her school year, Jeanne rose all happy from her bed. She followed the Gryffindor Prefect with her dormitory mates to the Great Hall. Yet as soon as she got here she found Tamao by her pink hair at the other end of the table and made her way to her.

“Good morning,” she started with a smile as she settled down.

The young lady, currently dunking her croissant in her hot chocolate with a distant look on her face, almost jumped when she saw her.

“Oh, uh, hi,” she gauchely greeted, cheeks pink.

Her eyes immediately dropped to the floor. Jeanne had never met someone so shy. Was it the reason she was sitting alone?

“I didn’t know you were in Fourth Year,” she started, grabbing the plum jam as she started on her breakfast.

“I, I’m sorry.” She blushed harder.

“Oh, no, don’t be, don’t be! It’s nothing!” Jeanne spoke as fast as she could, as she had not meant to embarrass her friend. “I am glad you’re in Gryffindor too. Or I mean I am glad I am here too, since you were actually here first. Well I am glad to be with you.”

Jeanne felt like she had managed to say what she wanted alright, and Tamao seemed to have understood, but she was still flushing. The red on her cheeks might actually have grown worse.

“Tamao.”

The two Gryffindor girls turned towards Silva, who had just reached them.

“Here is your timetable. As for you...”

He looked through his scrolls for a few minutes before finding the one that had her name on it.

“Here you are,” he smiled.

“Thank you!” She almost tore it from his hands, very excited.

Charms, Herbology, Astronomy, Transfiguration, Defence Against the Dark Arts, Potions, History of Magic, Flying - the subject names all seemed so exciting!

Jeanne glanced curiously at her friend’s timetable and noticed the words “Divination” and “Runes” that she did not have on hers.

“Divination?”

“It’s... An option,” Tamao stuttered.

“There are options?” Jeanne did not hide her surprise.

“Y-yes, once you get into, ah, Third Year.”

“Oh.”

Still looking at the two time tables, Jeanne almost noted that Tamao did not have Flying lessons, but was stopped short by the loud screeches of a hundred owls arriving at the same time. One afte the other, they started dropping mail in front of the various pupils. Jeanne realized she still hadn’t written to Marco. She was not sure she wanted to. It would be really rude not to tell him she had been Sorted into Gryffindor. She would need to send Shamash to him at some point during the day.

After breakfast, Tamao took Jeanne to her Potion class and slipped away with a discreet wave. Feeling nervous, Jeanne watched in silence as Potion Professor Namari Patch walked them through the year’s curriculum and started with the basics: the different types of cauldrons. It was then she understood why Silva had advised them to use their first names and not their last. Between him, Rutherford and Namari, that was three teachers already that she would have had to call “Professor Patch”.

With the other students from her year she then attempted to reach History class, and it was only half an hour into the class that they found the right room. Mr Avaf waited for them, at least, but he wasn’t happy about it. Jeanne had to get her jaw off the floor when she realized he was a half-naked ghost, wearing what looked like an old Mayan attire. She didn’t really have time to wonder because he immediately started and she had to get parchment and ink out to take notes.

Finding her way to the Great Hall for lunch wasn’t too hard. Likewise, getting to the Quidditch grounds in the afternoon for flight practice was somewhat easy. Jeanne discreetly stole glances at Hans Reiheit. She knew that before he was a Hogwarts Professor he had been a well-known Quidditch Player and a close friend of Marco, but he started class without seeming to recognize her.

She radiated happiness when the broom jumped into her hand just after she ordered it “up” and watched as her classmates struggled. She was a little proud. The first few seconds she spent above the ground made her excitement spike. She couldn’t believe how happy she was in that moment. Marco would never have let her do this. Flying lessons only started in Third Year in Beauxbâtons, anyways. Studying at Hogwarts felt so good!

That night Jeanne ate with the girls from her dormitory. The three girls who slept in her room were called Susan, Ann and Padma. They were like Jeanne, a little awestruck, anxious, excited, and curious all at the same time. However, when she noticed Tamao’s cute face a little further, Jeanne felt the irresistible need to go tell her all about her day. There was no time for that, but Jeanne promised herself she would have breakfast with her the next morning.

Before she went to bed she wrote ten letters for Marco and crumpled all of them. She still did not know what to think about his hiding the Triwizard Tournament from her. Perhaps, though, the tournament was the one and only reason he allowed her to go to Hogwarts.

At that thought she felt sadness well up and she narrowed her eyes at her quill.

“J-Jeanne?”

She raised her head towards Susan, who was too shy to even try and approach her.

“Could you... Could you please teach me how to write with ink and a quill?”

She seemed so lost and Jeanne was always up for helping a friend. So she said yes.

All in all, it took a full hour to explain to her dormmate when to dip her quill back into the well, how to hold it correctly, and how to write as quickly and efficiently as possible. When they were done Susan thanked her with a very wide smile, and both girls sank into their beds.

Jeanne figured she could wait until the morning to write Marco.


	5. To our foster fathers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I am happy to see you, Jeanne. And I am happy to have you here in Hogwarts.”

On the second day of class, Jeanne began her day with Mikihisa Asakura, who taught Defense Against the Dark Arts. When she talked about it with Tamao at lunch, she remembered a detail mentioned by her friend on the train.

“Didn’t you mention a Mikihisa when the blond girl came to bother us?”

Tamao turned pink.

“Y-yes, that’s him. He’s my guardian.”

“Your guardian?”

“He is the one who raised me. I... I don’t know my parents.”

Jeanne stared, dumbstruck.

“Me neither,” she confessed.

“Oh - oh really?”

Jeanne nodded.

“Marco adopted me and took care of me. Marco and Luchist."

“Luchist Lasso? The Headmaster?”

Jeanne nodded painfully, eyes sagely away. She didn’t like to talk about it. She didn’t want to go over the violent fight that had opposed her two adoptive fathers. And just like she hadn’t written to Marco, she hadn’t visited Luchist, either.

“Mikihisa has always been the one to take care of me, as far as I can remember,” Tamao said, clearly trying to distract her. “He’s my guardian. His mother-in-law, Kino, is Anna’s guardian.”

“Anna was adopted too? Like you?”

Tamao hesitated, then nodded.

“Anna is in which House again?” Jeanne had just realized she hadn’t seen the older girl since their chance meeting in the Hogwarts Express.

“Ravenclaw,” Tamao said. After an instant, she added: “Anna is Head Girl.”

“I... Don’t fully understand the way the prefects work,” Jeanne admitted. “What does it mean, Head Girl?”

“So, in every House, there are six male Prefects and six female Prefects. Two in Fifth Year, two in Sixth Year, and two in Seventh. Every time, there is one girl and one boy. Among the eight Prefects in Seventh Year, all Houses together, one girl and one boy are promoted to Head Prefect. They organize the work the other Prefects do.”

“So there’s.... Twelve male Prefects and twelve female Prefects, right?”

“Right! Among them are the two Head Prefects.”

“Okay, now I get it.”

* * *

The end of the week came without Jeanne managing to write Marco or visit Luchist. She ate with Tamao most of the time, rather than with her dorm mates. She would tell her everything about her days, and it didn’t seem to bother Tamao. Jeanne couldn’t explain why she felt so good with her. Maybe she was charmed by her voice in the train? Sadly she hadn’t heard her sing since. Not even a hum.

She met Professor Tepes, who taught Transfiguration. He creeped her out, even in the very first class. The other students whispered he had a vampiric ancestor. And not just any vampire. Dracula himself! Jeanne didn’t know if she ought to believe that.

She also sat in her first Herbology and Charms classes. The former was taught by Professor Thalim Patch - yet another one... And Charms were taught by Professor Chrom. Chrom Patch. No surprise here.

For now, the only Professors who had given them homework were Pascal Avaf and Mikihisa. Jeanne was intent on doing them as soon as possible; she had no doubt they would have a lot more to do in the coming weeks. The only class she hadn’t attended yet was Astronomy, as it only started on the following Monday. Because lessons were held in the middle of the night, they didn’t have class the next morning.

Jeanne strolled in light-heartedly in the Great Hall on Saturday morning. She woke up as early as she did on the school days. She wanted to get her homework done to have her afternoon and Sunday to herself.

She was not surprised to see Michael among the owls coming in with mail. She hadn’t written Marco. The guilt had her biting her lips nervously.

The great owl landed majestically in front of her. He then ceremoniously held his talon towards her so she could untie the parchment there. It had been whitened out, and tied with a ribbon. With a light sigh, she took the letter and let Michael pick at her bowl of cereal, gently petting his head.

‘Dear Jeanne,’ Marco wrote. ‘As we have received no news I went ahead and wrote you. I would have done so earlier but Meene did not let me.’

Jeanne sighed. She could not imagine what her life would have been without Meene. Probably that of a pretty princess kept in an ivory tower, like Rapunzel.

‘I hope your trip went well and that you arrived in Hogwarts without issue. How did your Sorting Ceremony go? Do you like your new school? If there is any issue, do not hesitate to tell me. You know it will not be a problem if you have to come back to Beauxbâtons during the year.

I will wait for your letter. With all my affection, Marco.’

Before her courage dried up, Jeanne foraged for a quill and parchment to scribble an answer.

‘Dear Marco, I am having a great time in Hogwarts. I was Sorted into Gryffindor. Best wishes, Jeanne’

Succinct, but to the point.

After a second, she added a post-scriptum to say she had made a friend already, and her dorm mates were nice. She then tied the answer to Michael’s talon. He wouldn’t have left without an answer, anyways, and she knew it. Marco had raised him for that purpose exactly.

Once the letter was tied securely, the owl took flight, glided across the Great Hall, and then made its way through one of the great windows towards home. Jeanne watched him nervously. Then she shook her head and put away quill and inkwell.

Bag slung around her shoulder, she left the Great Hall intent on visiting Luchist. Then she realized she had no idea where his office was. She did remember one of the Gryffindor Prefects saying the professors’ lounge was in the Entrance Hall, opposite the hourglasses. She crossed paths with a group of Sixth or Seventh Years going towards the Great Hall, led by a tall brown-haired boy with the Head Boy insignia. She realized she did not know to which House he belonged. She should have asked Tamao. Anna, she remembered, was in... Slytherin? Ravenclaw? She didn’t remember.

The professors’ lounge was guarded by two big gargoyles. They stared at her when she knocked. Jeanne found them a little intimidating.

It was one of the Patch Professors who opened the door. Thalim.

“Good morning,” she said politely. “I wanted to speak to the Headmaster.”

“Of course, I will go get him,” Thalim smiled.

Jeanne found it weird, but did not insist. Would he be there with them? She understood Thalim’s mistake when her Housemaster - Silva - appeared in front of her.

“Good morning, Jeanne. What can I do for you?”

“Good morning Professor. I wanted to speak with Headmaster Luchist,” she clarified.

“Professor Lasso,” he corrected, the hint of a question mark in his voice.

“Oh, I - I mean, yes,” Jeanne nodded, blanching at the mistake.

“What is this about?”

Jeanne then remembered he was also Deputy Headmaster.

“It’s... It’s personal,” she winced.

Silva raised an eyebrow.

“Please,” she insisted.

“Alright,” he yielded with a smile. “Follow me.”

Jeanne hurriedly fell into step behind him as he walked towards the stairs. After a few moments spent moving through the castle, Silva stopped in front of a stone gargoyle.

“Lamborghini,” he said quietly.

The gargoyle moved, revealing a flight of stairs leading to the Headmaster’s office. Silva and Jeanne climbed in silence. Once on the landing, the Deputy Headmaster knocked on the door before entering the office, Jeanne on his heels.

“Professor Lasso, Jeanne Maxwell asked for a word, if you will.”

Peeking from around the door, Jeanne glimpsed Luchist behind Silva. He was sitting behind a large black desk, and on it rested a feathered hat as well as a bible. These objects were so closely associated with her adoptive grandfather for her that Jeanne felt her heart swell.

“Thank you, Sillva, I will take care of it.”

Silva gave him a dry bow and left the bureau, closing the door behind him. Jeanne was suddenly feeling really intimidated. She took a few scared steps towards him.

“I was wondering when you would be brave enough to come see me,” he smiled.

Jeanne raised her chin proudly. “You could have taken the first step.”

Luchist laughed, a soft sound. He rose, and went around the desk to come close to her. She did not allow herself a single step back.

“You are all grown up now,” he said after a moment, clearly proud.

“Marco sends his regards,” she shot back.

He did not stop smiling.

“To say he’s going to be here... It feels like I have not seen him in years.”

“It _has_ been years,” Jeanne noted, her voice a little bit sharp.

“Yes. Yes, of course.”

They looked at each other silently for a few moments.

“It was thanks to you that we could hold the Triwizard Tournament this year, you know? He wouldn’t have agreed to this if you weren’t here. No regard for tradition.”

“You underestimate him,” Jeanne hissed.

“Do you think?”

He challenged her with a look, and she pressed her lips together, not answering.

“I am happy to see you, Jeanne. And I am happy to have you here in Hogwarts.”

“If you are so happy about this, why didn’t you come see me?” 

She hadn’t meant to ask, but she couldn’t stop herself.

This time, it was Luchist’s turn to not answer. It hurt. Jeanne didn’t want to show it.

Instead of answering, he changed subjects. “Are your classes going well?”

“I don’t know yet. They have just started.”

“Of course.”

That silence, again. Jeanne really didn’t know what to say to him. Just as she tried to spark conversation again, he cut her off.

“Thank you for coming to see me, Jeanne.”

She was dismissed. So be it.

“Have a good day, Professor.”

She turned on her heels and left the office without giving him time to add anything else.

Had she really seen his smile freeze on his lips when she called him Professor? She wasn’t really sure, and she would rather not form false hopes. It didn’t really matter, at the end of things. Right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was so stoked when I first read this chapter. In the original fic, Luchist and his chaos family is still a big mystery and I just live for his interactions with Jeanne and Hao and everyone else. Funky little mystery man.  
> It only clicked when I translated it, because I have so much goodwill for them all, but it's a little chilling that he's specificially happy to have her. Even if Marco's due back in the school.... Aaah, I'm so stoked.


	6. Confidences and confessions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “But that’s forbidden,” she said, “it’s in the rules.”

The weather was still very nice. Jeanne knew it wouldn’t last and didn’t want to waste it, so she had gone down to the park, under the shade of a tree, with a voyeur’s view on the Quidditch pitch. It was a little colder than home but still bearable. From where she was she could see students flying on their brooms. Some were practicing impressive stunts, and she really wanted to learn how to do the same.

For now, though, she was going through a romance novel.

“Hey there,” a familiar voice said, “can I sit with you?”

“Of course!” Jeanne was so happy to see Tamao come to her of her own volition, she scooted over. Her friend drew out a sketchbook and sat silently. Jeanne tried to go back to her book, but failed. It was too hard, with Tamao sitting so close by…

“Are you drawing the pitch?”

“Y-yeah,” and Tamao sounded shy.

“Sorry.” Jeanne spied her blush. “I didn’t want to make you feel embarrassed.”

“No, no, don’t worry.”

Tamao relaxed a bit. For a while they stayed silent. Tamao didn’t dare continue drawing and Jeanne half-heartedly pretended to read.

“Do you… do you want to see?”

Jeanne felt a cohort of butterflies take flight in her stomach.

“Yes!”

Her friend moved closer and started going through her book, explaining each drawing to her friend’s benevolent gaze. Jeanne couldn’t believe how nice Tamao was being with her. This was such a precious show of trust…

“I like this one,” she said a few times. Not that she didn’t the other ones, but she couldn’t say it for each, it would have sounded fake.

“Who’s that,” she asked, as after a series of landscapes Tamao reached a young man’s portrait.

“Oh, I forgot that was in this book…”

Tamao turned bright pink and struggled to explain.

“That’s Yoh… Mikihisa’s son. And Anna’s fiancé.”

Jeanne heard the hurt in her voice.

“You… are in love with him,” she said, thinking about the book in her lap.

Tamao nodded, worrying the inside of her cheeks with her teeth. Jeanne tried to get to the bottom of it.

“He’s here, right? At Hogwarts? A Seventh Year, since he is an adult. Is he one of Horo-Horo’s friends?”

“Yes, they are friends. But Yoh’s best friend is Manta, the Prefect from Ravenclaw.”

“Is Yoh a Ravenclaw?"

"No, he’s a Hugglepuff."

"But Anna is a Ravenclaw.”

“Yes.”

Jeanne tilted her head to the side, looking at the portrait. It was so well-drawn she almost thought the Yoh on the paper could move. Then she looked at Tamao again. She was so clearly embarrassed, fidgeting, eyes away, away, away.

“When you say they are fiancés, do you mean he asked her to marry him?”

“Not… not really. Kino and Yohmei chose her to be his fiancée. Because she… She’s very good.”

“You mean this is an arranged marriage?” She was more surprised than shocked.

“They love each other. Yoh fell for Anna. And Anna, she… he is very dear to her. So this is a good thing. A very good…”

Her voice broke and Jeanne felt her soul stumble. She didn’t think twice before she took Tamao in her arms for a hug, not noticing how crimson her friend immediately turned. They stayed like that for a while, and then Jeanne leaned back to smile up at her.

“I’m sure you’ll find a boy much better than Yoh to love you.”

Tamao was moved and decided to not tell her her true thoughts. There was not one boy in Hogwarts more handsome and more kind.

* * *

“How cute,” someone sharply laughed behind them.

Jeanne and Tamao turned to look at the owner of the voice and saw two young women, each carrying a broom. Their Quidditch clothes were green and Jeanne deduced that they must be Slytherin girls.

“We noticed you snogging each other so we came to see who could be this mushy in the school. Tamamura of course! What a non-surprise,” one of the two girls continued. She had red hair and a sadistic smile.

Her friend, a blond girl with pigtails, let out a high-pitched laugh whilst hiding her face in her hands.

“Still crying about your impossible love story, how pathetic.”

She was swaying from side to side and Jeanne realized she was laughing. Besides her Tamao had gone white and her eyes were wide with terror.

Jeanne closed her hands into tight fists and stood to face the two bullies.

“We didn’t ask for your input, go away.”

“Woah, woah, look how the Firstie thinks she can talk to us,” the redhead shouted, pretending to be shocked. That made the blond one laugh.

“You should watch your tongue when you’re talking to your betters. Otherwise you might get yourself in some problems, mate.”

“Oh, yes Mati, let’s show her what happens when someone can’t respect us. Mari is bored. Mari wants to punish this innocent girl who thinks she’s a princess.”

A sadistic smile stretched Mati’s face, but she didn’t move.

“First and last warning, Snow-White, you owe us respect,” she said with a terrible smile.

Jeanne looked for a good comeback but the two girls didn’t let her. They just turned and walked away, still giggling, the fools.

Jeanne stared them down. If looks could kill she would have been in trouble. Slowly, she forced herself to breathe the anger out. She should never give in to anger, it was Marco who said it. Even if he was the quickest to do so, his words were wise.

When she calmed down Jeanne turned back towards Tamao and sat back down.

“You shouldn’t have,” her friend whispered.

Jeanne made a face and tried to meet Tamao’s eyes, in vain. She was expecting thanks, not a scolding.

“I shouldn’t have what? Taken your side?”

“Provoked them.”

“It’s not because they think they’re all that that you must let them walk all over you. They were mean and cruel for no reason. I couldn’t let that happen.”

Tamao raised her head towards her.

“You put yourself in danger.”

“In danger? Why? Were they going to criticize me as well?”

Jeanne gave her a soft smile.

“It wouldn’t have done anything to me.”

“You don’t understand,” Tamao said.

Jeanne was starting to feel prickled.

“They could have attacked you.” Seeing as she wasn’t budging, Tamao explained even further: “They could have hexed you.”

That got Jeanne’s eyes to widen a little. “But that’s forbidden,” she said, “it’s in the rules.”

“It doesn’t matter to them.”

“But…”

Jeanne was completely outraged to learn that the two girls wouldn’t follow the rules. Her forehead wrinkled as she tried to find a solution. But she had to admit that if magic was involved, even if she was rather confident in her abilities, she probably would not have been able to stand her ground in front of two older Slytherin girls.

“Violence is a weapon for the weak-minded,” she said in disgust. Her grimace must have been formidable, because it got Tamao to smile.

“Are they in your year?”

“No, older. Marion – the blond one – she’s a Fifth Year. Mathilda is a Sixth.”

That polished Jeanne’s anger a little more and she started biting her lips.

After a while, Tamao spoke once more.

“Thanks for stepping up for me. It was… it was nice. And that’s what matters. But don’t do it again, okay?”

Jeanne stared her down.

“I will do it again, whenever I deem it necessary.” She spoke confidently.

Tamao seemed moved and didn’t try to convince her otherwise.

* * *

At dinner, Tamao and Jeanne sat together and started talking about the book Jeanne was reading. That moment together was starting to become routine and they both liked it. Yet today, they were brusquely invaded – there was no other word to describe how sudden the arrival was, and how thoroughly their calm evening was altered – by Horo-Horo and his friends.

“Hi girls! We’ll sit with you, okay?”

He sat besides Jeanne while Lyserg plopped down next to Tamao. Then a boy Jeanne didn’t know sat on the other side of Lyserg. Small, with light brown hair and big, big eyes that shone of wit and curiosity.

“Jeanne, Manta. Manta, Jeanne.” Horo-Horo didn’t really do long introductions.

“But…” Jeanne looked at Lyserg with a frown. “You’re a Ravenclaw. You can’t…”

“Sit at the Gryffindor table? I am sad to learn you don’t want my company.”

“That’s not what I…”

She stopped when she saw the teasing glint in Lyserg’s eyes.

“Hello, Tamao.”

“H-hello, Lyserg,” she whispered, cheeks turning pink. Then she got a hold of herself. “Hello, Manta.”

“Hello,” said the boy next to Lyserg.

“You are in Ravenclaw too, right? Prefect?” Jeanne had spied the insignia on his robe.

“Exactly,” Manta smiled. “Was it Horo-Horo that mentioned me?”

“Yes. Him and Tamao.”

Manta glanced at her and she blushed a little more.

“So what’s up, guys? What have you been doing during your first delicious free day of the year?” Horo-Horo gave a sigh. “I got completely destroyed at Gobstones, so I definitely won’t go to the club this year. I don’t even know who’ll preside.”

“You could come with us to the chess club,” Manta offered.

“With you and Lyserg ? Thanks but no thanks, that’s a whole lot of Ravens for me.”

Lyserg laughed softly before asking his neighbor for salt. Tamao grabbed it for him and Jeanne noted that when their fingers touched they both equally blushed. Maybe her friend wouldn’t have to look far to find a boy as adorable as Yoh. And much better than him.

“Hello!”

Jeanne jumped as a newcomer with dark skin and a puffy afro slammed down next to Horo-Horo.

“Admit it Manta, you like Horo-Horo better than me,” he immediately said to the boy in front of him.

Who let out a deep sigh.

“I knew it! I knew you preferred Gryffindors to Hugglepuffs.”

“Well, you are going to laugh, but we prefer Slytherins,” Manta said, but his friend didn’t give him any attention.

“We admit it, Choco,” Lyserg said, his face very serious. “We prefer Tamao’s company to yours.”

Tamao immediately turned beet red, and Horo-Horo laughed loud.

“OK, if it’s Tamao, I forgive you.”

Jeanne examined the two teenagers in front of her, eyes going from Lyserg to Tamao and back again, trying to guess what was there.

“Nice to meet you, I’m Chocolove,” the boy next to Horo-Horo said, cutting through her thoughts. He gave her his hand to shake, going right through Horo-Horo’s breakfast space.

“Hey, I’m eating!”

“I know your name, Eating, but I wasn’t asking you.”

“Jeanne,” the young girl said, shaking his hand.

“Lovely, Jeanne. If you ever feel down come see me. I’m an ace at jokes and puns, I’ll get you feeling high in less time than you’d need to say _Up_!”

“Or not,” Manta said.

Chocolove made a face.

“It’s important to manage expectations.”

“Ah, there you are!"

Jeanne looked coldly at the newcomers. It was starting to feel crowded and she was a lot more comfortable when it was only her and Tamao.

She immediately recognized Yoh. Her friend’s drawing was very true to life. The young man beside him, though, she didn’t recognize. She would surely learn of him soon enough, because he sat opposite Yoh, who sat besides Tamao. So he was next to her.

“Hey there Tamao, how’s it going,” Yoh asked.

“It’s – I’m good,” she said in a stutter, dunking her face towards her bowl of soup.

Jeanne did her best to look away. She could have murdered the boy for putting her friend ill at ease. But it wasn’t his fault at all.

“Jeanne, this is Yoh,” Horo-Horo said. “Hugglepuff.”

“Hey there, lovely to meet you.” He had a wide smile and he waved.

“And your new table neighbor, who never utters more than two words at a time and hates people, that’s Ren. Slytherin.”

Said Ren didn’t add anything. He poured himself a glass of milk in perfect silence.

“The Ren Damuko mentioned,” Jeanne asked for confirmation. She was getting lost with all these names.

“Eh… I guess.”

Ren gave Horo-Horo a dark look. He swallowed hard and immediately shifted into a deep talk about humor and its role in politics with Chocolove.

Jeanne watched carefully as Ren put his milk glass back down in a flourish and started to pull fries to his plate. She had trouble believing that a Slytherin, two Ravenclaws and two Hugglepuffs could come sit down at the Gryffindor table with no repercussions.

“Yoh.”

Jeanne fought not to lose it as _yet_ another person came to their table. She raised her head to look at the blond girl from the train. Anna. Her cold voice was unmistakeable.

“Can you make space for me?”

There were seats open next to him, Jeanne thought. She didn’t understand.

“Yes, yes of course,” Yoh nodded, moving down the row so Anna could come sit in between him and Tamao.

Oh. So that was what that was.

Since Anna arrived Tamao kept her head bowed, losing her gaze in her empty soup bowl. _God_ , Jeanne thought, why couldn’t they stay at their own table? Her friend looked so upset and she got angry.

When she noticed Tamao’s hand trembling as she handed Ren the water pitcher, she decided enough was enough.

“Tamao, I wanted to go to the library but I am afraid I will get lost,” she said loudly, getting up right as Anna, Yoh, and Lyserg discussed a new shop opening in Hogsmeade. “Can you come with me, please?”

Tamao instantly nodded and rose behind her.

“I can draw you a map if you want,” Manta said, “Tamao isn’t done.”

“That’s very nice but don’t worry. We’ll take dessert for the trip,” Jeanne smiled, grabbing two chocolate éclairs.

“Now there’s empty seats,” Horo-Horo said sadly.

“Well fill it.” Chocolove shoved him so hard that he almost ended up in Ren’s lap.

“See you later,” Yoh said with a gentle smile.

“See you,” and Jeanne was polite when she took Tamao away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lot in that fic would be different if people were more forth-coming with the kiddo. Too bad, too sad!


	7. Studies and secrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You don't need to apologize."

September ran past them and Jeanne settled in the school. She liked the stone walls and the old fireplaces, the magical staircases with a will of their own, the crowd of living portraits and the solemn armors lining the halls. More than anything, though, Jeanne loved that Hogwarts was full of secret passages and other shortcuts. She wrote down every one she found in a small notebook.

After a week she managed to move through the castle on her own, and after two she knew enough to go from one class to the next. When during the third week she wanted to see Shamash, she asked Tamao to guide her to the owlery and memorized the way carefully. She had first thought about drawing it in her notebook and then hadn’t.

While she petted her owl, her friend had stepped to the edge, apparently drawn by something in the park. Sliding in next to her, Jeanne saw a young boy with dark hair tied back – Yoh, no doubt – talking to the Gryffindor ghost. She hadn’t made any comment, hadn’t dared. She knew that even if Tamao chose to follow her advice and tried to forget Yoh, it would be hard. It was only when Conchi and Ponchi started chirping that Tamao stopped looking.

While Shamash sometimes came to greet Jeanne in the morning during breakfast, purring softly to get scritches, the small owlets of Tamao never did. And it was for the best. The one time they had come, riding on Shamash’s coattails, they had been screeching and looping around the hall, drawing everyone’s attention on them. Real animal tornadoes. Tamao had turned bright red and tried to calm them down with big arm gestures, but it didn’t really work. It was Anna who calmed them down. The moment they saw her they ran away.

* * *

Classes were interesting. Very different from what she was used to. In Transfiguration she almost fell from her chair when she saw Professor Tepes turn into a bat at the end of a class. Ann, sitting besides her, shrieked, and a Slytherin boy had dropped his inkwell on the floor, spilling ink everywhere.

Jeanne didn’t really like the class and she knew it was mostly due to the terrifying professor. It wasn’t that hard to believe he had vampire blood now. They were learning to turn matches into needles, and she rather liked that. There were only two to three students who managed, including her.

Professor Thalim was teaching them to recognize plants and to take care of them. It was a lot more practical than Herbology and she had to admit she lied it that way. She did prefer to water and cut than to pot the things. It was in any case a lot more interesting than to have to listen to professor Avaf drone on about Gwendoline the Fantastic, whom she already knew about. If she had any choice in the matter, she would have started with chapter 6 and the creation of Hogwarts.

Her favorite day was Wednesday, because of the Flight lesson during the afternoon. They had started making loops around the stadium, five or six meters in the air, under the watchful eye of professor Reiheit. Jeanne and Ann raced each other, not looking down, never looking down. Jeanne felt a keen fear of falling, and flying was both terrifying and exhilarating to her. In November, they’d start learning maneuvers by going through hoops. She could not wait.

Jeanne knew the basics of Astronomy forward and back; Marco had taught her how to find each one of the main constellations every summer on the Atlantic. She did have some trouble with Potions. The theory held no interest at all for her, and throwing ingredients into the pot wasn’t as funny when it made the cauldron cough up pink sprays of burning liquid. Padma had been taken to the infirmary when zits started popping up on her arm, and she hadn’t talked to Jeanne the whole day after.

In most classes Jeanne already had a headstart, and forced herself not to raise her hand every time the teacher asked a question. She thought it was cheating, and she should let her classmates speak. But when nobody else could speak she always did. Otherwise the teachers seemed to look upset, or disappointed.

After her fourth lesson in Charms, professor Chrom asked her to stay behind to have a chat. She put her things away, then stepped up to the desk while the last few students strayed out of the classroom.

The teacher was smiling when he looked at her. He had long brown hair that fell free on his shoulders, eyes that were always kind and a smile always on his lips when he addressed a student.

“Tell me, Jeanne, what did you study last year?”

Jeanne took a few moments to put order in her memories before answering. It wasn’t very easy, because there was not one class in Beauxbâtons that covered the same material as Charms did here.

“We learned about light spells, color sprays, lighting up one’s way with one’s wand, creating an external light source. We covered magical fires and the history of locking and unlocking spells.”

“Only the theory?”

“We practiced Alohomora and started on Collaporta.”

“Anything else ?"

She hesitated.

"We did Flipendo, too," though she wasn’t sure it was covered in Charms in Hogwarts. “Tarantallegra, Rictusempra, Cracbadaboum, Densaugmento, Poiroarticho.”

"Cracbada… Ah, Diffindo. That is the French variant. I will not cover these spells in my class, but you will surely do with professor Mikihisa.”

He thought about it for a minute then prodded.

“Did you learn about the Four Point spell?”

“Yes, in our cartography lessons.”

“I see…" He nodded slowly.

Jeanne struggled to interpret the expression on his face. He looked… like he was elsewhere entirely. She tried to think of anything she would have missed but nothing else came.

“You had already practiced the levitation spell, hadn’t you?”

Jeanne nodded. He had suspected when he saw her use Wingardium Leviosa perfectly on the first try.

“And the featherlight spell,” Jeanne thought to add.

“Could you demonstrate a light spell for me?”

She drew her wand out.

“Lumos,” she said, voice clear.

Immediately a soft light appeared at the top of her wand. Jeanne waited for a few moments, then, because her teacher did not reacted, she said “Nox,” voice slightly less confident. The light vanished.

“Very well, thank you," he said, smiling. “As I thought, your level is clearly far too advanced compared to this class. Beauxbâtons has always excelled in the teaching of charms. Ah, if only I had more hours… But I have never received that kind of clearance from my Headmasters.”

Jeanne allowed herself to smile back.

“If you are interested, I think you could benefit from following a few of the Charms classes of the Second Years. The time-tables will not let you switch over completely, but you could come in Tuesday morning, I know you don’t have classes then. You would be with Hugglepuff and Slytherin Second Years. That way, you would be free on Monday mornings.”

Jeanne was too surprised to react.

“Of course,” he added, “this has to be your decision, you do not have to do this. And if you start falling behind, you can always stop and go back to your Monday class. I will ask you to do your First Year homework but if you want to do the Second Year assignments from time to time I will correct them. The grade won’t be counted.”

“It’s… has anyone ever done this,” she asked.

“To be honest with you I don’t know, I would have to look in the school archive. But I talked to the Headmaster, and he is not against it. What do you think?”

She couldn’t think, this was too sudden.

“I, that is to say… I don’t know. Can I think about it,” she asked politely.

“Of course,” and he smiled, kind as always. “You can tell me next week, or the week after. It will have to be before the end of the month or you will not be able to follow the Second Years, especially since you will have only one lesson instead of two…”

Jeanne gave him a confident nod to show she understood.

“Well, that’ll be all today,” he said, gently dismissing her. “Go get lunch!"

* * *

Jeanne didn’t know if she wanted to accept the offer. She knew that if he mentioned it, he must consider her to have the ability to follow Second Year classes. And she had to admit she was getting a bit bored in Charms. But it wasn’t that she didn’t think she could follow the advanced classes. That wasn’t what worked at her.

“You seem worried,” Tamao noted during lunch. “Did something happen ?"

Tamao now managed to talk to her without stuttering. Her cheeks continued to blush prettily, though, and Jeanne found it adorable.

“There’s no problem,” she said with a comforting smile before filling her plate with vegetables.

“You were late,” Tamao just said.

Jeanne turned towards her but her friend was pouring herself water, without looking at her. She wasn’t demanding her secrets, just stating facts. And that was why Jeanne gave in and shared her thoughts.

“Well… Before I came here, I was in another magic school. You know the Beauxbâtons Academy? In France?”

Tamao gave her a nod.

“I studied there last year, but… it wasn’t going very well. So I came here to Hogwarts.”

Tamao seemed lost.

“Are they… Was it too hard?”

“Oh, no, it wasn’t that I had poor results. They were acceptable. But… but the other students, that is where I was struggling. And with the teachers. It was odd with the teachers.”

Jeanne’s words came out in bursts, lower and lower. Her eyes were riveted to her plate. Slowly, softly, Tamao put her hand on hers and gave her a gauche smile.

“I am happy that you came here to Hogwarts and that I got to meet you,” she said.

Her face was honesty personified, and for the first time Jeanne was the one to blush, while Tamao’s stayed the same.

“I came here as a First Year,” Jeanne continued, looking for a contenance she wasn’t finding, “to be like everyone else and because classes are taught differently here than there. But professor Chrom offered to… To make me switch, I think that word would work, from First Year Charms to Second Year. At least for a few.”

“He worries you’ll be bored in his class,” was Tamao’s gentle interpretation.

Jeanne rather thought he did because she was of Second Year level. She hadn’t seen things this way.

“Yes, maybe.”

“Will you say yes?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “I don’t… I don’t want to be different. But…”

She worried her lower lip.

“Jeanne,” and Tamao’s voice was serious now, oh so serious. “I don’t exactly know what happened in Beauxbâtons, but I have some idea, and I can promise you it won’t happen here in Hogwarts.”

Jeanne was moved. Her hands trembled, and her heart beat fast in her chest.

“You can’t…”

“I promise,” and Tamao actually cut her off, with a voice so clear. Jeanne had never imagined she could sound like this.

She could feel tears coming down.

“If you want to accept professor Chrom’s proposal, do it. If you don’t want to because it’s more work or it’s hard or it’s less interesting or… just because you don’t want to, you don’t need a reason, say no. Do it for yourself without… without caring about what others might say. Okay?”

It was a long speech for Tamao, a freeing one. Before she could hide in her napkin, Jeanne felt something come loose in herself, and she started sobbing.

“Oh, no, no, no no don’t be sad,” Tamao was panicking.

Her big worried eyes looked around before finding her bag. She found a white lace handkerchief. Jeanne buried her face in the clean cotton, drying her wet cheeks before blowing her hand in it discretely, the way she had been taught.

Not worrying about what others would think and doing things for herself only… it would have been completely out of reach a few weeks ago, before she came to Hogwarts. But with Tamao everything felt doable. And to dream of this moved her to the heart. Being able to do things just for herself…

With one last shiver she handed Tamao her handkerchief back.

“Thank you, Tamao. I ask that you forget this moment of weakness,” she said distinctly.

“You don’t need to apologize.” Tamao was fidgeting, clearly uncomfortable with her phrasing.

Jeanne stared at her gravely, which must not help her unease.

“You should eat something,” Tamao tried to divert. “Classes will start up soon and you haven’t started at all.”

Jeanne noted the feedback and stuck her fork into a carrot, very deliberately. Tamao poured her a glass and turned back to her own, almost finished, meal.

“I didn’t think,” Jeanne began again after a few bites, “that you… I thought you more shy and more… sensitive. To what others can say.”

Tamao turned as red as the tomato sauce that covered her pasta.

“It’s easier to dole out advice to others than to use them for myself,” she said after a few minutes. She then continued, refusing to let Jeanne interrupt. “It’s true, I am shy. I am a… scaredy cat. And… And I struggle when I have to talk with someone else in public. With you it’s easier, with Yoh too, it’s always been, it’s even gotten me in very embarrassing situations, but… Yeah, I am very often, almost always, on edge with other people but I never let that stop me from doing what I wanted. Well, sometimes, but almost never. I mean…”

Words poured out of her now, and it didn’t seem any close to stopping. Jeanne stared wide-eyed. Tamao took in a sharp breath.

“What I mean is, I will not cower and hide in a hole just because everyone knows I am in love with Yoh while he is with Anna and looks at me with pity or scorn. I wanted to, often. Sometimes I did. But I won’t, anymore. Well, I decided I wouldn’t but maybe I will again. But not for long. Just long enough to feel better. It always feels better after a while and there’s a lot worse that could happen. I will not stop living because of this. Whatever anyone else says.”

Jeanne suddenly understood why Tamao was in Gryffindor.

Tamao stopped, breath a little short and forehead wrinkled from her tight focus. Then she seemed to realize she had spoken rather intimately about herself for several minutes, and grimaced.

“I don’t think you’re a scaredy cat,” Jeanne piped up.

Tamao looked at her weird.

“Anna says I am,” she said flatly.

Jeanne grimaced, too, and Tamao seemed to relax.

“Classes will start up soon, you should really eat, you know?”

“Oh, yes!”

And Jeanne left her vegetables to start with the dessert. A priority, in case she didn’t have time to eat it all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "They were acceptable" you know they weren't just acceptable! Damn. I have feels again. Gryff girls best girls.


	8. The mute dancer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I apologize,” he said, looking into her eyes. “I was just teasing you a bit. I don’t want to fight with you.”

Jeanne went the following week to the charm class for Second Years, which had Professor Chrom beaming.

He welcomed her with a smile. “Jeanne. There’s a spot right there, next to Nichrome.”

Jeanne nodded and sat where he told her to. Her class neighbor had unkempt brown hair that he braided in a long fine rope on his back and make-up under his eyes.

“Right,” Chrom started, “Jeanne will be with us every Tuesday to observe and participate. I expect that you will give her a warm welcome. Can someone remind us what we went over last Thursday?

Several hands went up, including that of her neighbor, but he wasn’t the one called upon.

“What magic can and cannot do when it comes to breaking and repairing objects.” The girl who spoke had red bangs.

“Exactly. Today we will practice for a bit, not just talk about it. We’ll use the spell to repair small objects to start with. You shouldn’t have trouble with that one, since it was covered at the end of last year. You will practice on glasses. Who can give me the vocal components?”

Hands went up again and this time Nichrome was the one who spoke.

“Vera Reparo.”

“Exactly! Good job.”

Chrom then made a wide circle with his wand and wine glasses appeared on the desks. They all had a fine fracture line threatening to split open.

“Your wrist must move in time with your mouth. Like this.” He sharply inclined his wand. “Now observe.”

He moved up to Jeanne’s desk, as it was the closest, and pointed to her glass. “Vera Reparo.” His voice didn’t shake as he showed them again.

The line vanished.

Tapping the glass with his wand, Chrom promptly broke it in two.

“Now you try,” he told the class. “When your glass is repaired, come place it on the desk. Then you will pick one broken object from the box here to practice on. You will have to adapt the spell."

The class moved the moment he stopped speaking. Jeanne glanced at Nichrome, whose wand was already out. He was staring at his glass, clearly focused.

“Vera Reparo,” he said.

His glass gleamed and the fracture healed over, but a fine line remained, as if someone had glued it back together.

Because she wasn’t moving, Nichrome sent her a suspicious look. She immediately drew her wand from her pocket. She then took a deep breath while surveying her broken glass, pushed her hair back and lifted her chin.

"Vera Reparo."

Nothing happened.

Annoyed, Jeanne tried again. She could see the two parts shiver, but they remained apart. Next to her, Nichrome was working on erasing the scar his spell had left. He managed it after four attempts.

Chrom was moving in between the desks and came behind them. “It is harder to repair something that was badly repaired once already. It demands a greater focus and precision for your spell to hit right.”

Nichrome nodded gravely, then stood to go take his next practice target.

Jeanne focused on her own work once more.

"Vera Reparo," she said again, her voice and soul calmer.

This time the two parts shifted, met in the middle, and melded in one perfectly repaired glass.

"Great work, Jeanne,” Chrom smiled, before moving away.

Satisfied, Jeanne joined Nichrome and put her glass down on the desk. He was going through the box quite thoroughly and nodded towards her. “Good job.”

"Thanks. You too," she smiled.

Nichrom smiled back before brandishing a small broken wood figure. Some of its puppet limbs were broken. He moved away from the box, and it was Jeanne’s turn to pick. Her gaze was immediately drawn to a small music box. She immediately grabbed it and went back to her seat as if walking on clouds.

“You didn’t go for easy,” Nichrom commented.

She didn’t know what to say in return. “You didn’t either.”

“Still easier than yours.”

Jeanne was not sure she saw what he meant. She put her music box on her desk, sat down, drew her wand… and didn’t say anything. She didn’t know the spell.

"Pupa Reparo," Nichrom articulated beside her. His wooden puppet jumped but did not heal.

Jeanne bit her lip.

“You could try Ferrum Reparo,” he offered, guessing her issue. Then he pointed to his target. “Pupa Reparo.”

Jeanne gave him a thankful smile and tried. After a dozen attempts without any success, she borrowed his copy of _The Book of Spells and Charms, level 2_. She went through the pages and tried something else.

“Muse Reparo,” she tried, without results. “Arca Reparo.”

That time she felt something in her fingers, although the music box remained completely still. Feeling better, she focused.

“Arca Reparo,” she said, louder.

The box did not get fixed, but the top popped open and the dancer twirled silently for a few seconds.

“Arca Reparo.”

Nothing this time. She bit her lip, annoyed.

Chrom stepped up to her. “You did not choose the easiest target,” he said soothingly. “Arca Reparo can work, but Ferrum Reparo is better, because what is broken is the teeth of the mechanism. The more complex the mechanism is, which is often the case in Muggle objects, the harder the repair. If your spell confuses you, you can try with just Reparo. The words are just there to give a form to your spell, to focus its strength. What matters is that you know in your head what you want your magic to do.”

For a while Jeanne looked at her box and then at the teacher. And then at the box again.

“Try again,” he prodded.

“Reparo,” she said softly.

The dancer made one full turn once more, but stayed silent.

The professor gave her a smile before noticing that Nichrome had repaired his puppet.

“Good job, Nichrome. You can pick something else if you want to keep practicing, you still have about fifteen minutes.”

During these fifteen minutes, Nichrome managed to repair a glass vial and a pair of glasses, but Jeanne did not manage to fix her music box. She was all the more frustrated because everybody else managed to fix their own targets. Everybody, except one chubby boy who was working on a pocket watch.

“Too ambitious,” Nichrome smiled beside her. It was a weird kind of smile, or just half of one. It felt like he was looking down on her, which was rather annoying even if she could tell he was just teasing.

Even though class was finished she didn’t want to let it go. She moved closer to his desk while the others put their things away. “Sir, can I keep the music box to practice?”

“Of course,” he smiled. “Don’t panic if you don’t get it fixed right away. It is a lot harder than with a glass or a bag.”

Jeanne smiled in return, but it was determination that burned in her stomach when she left. She would repair this thing!

* * *

October came, and with it cold winds that cut short any thought of sunny afternoons in the parc. In Charms, they were now practicing in pairs, shouting “Impervious” at their clothes. Nichrom tried first. Then Jeanne stared at the full glass of water he was supposed to tip on her dress.

“I trust you,” she said out loud. It was more to convince herself than to convince him.

Nichrom smiled at her, with one of these cold half-smiles she was now used to.

Jeanne held her breath when he tipped the game on her, but to her relief the spell worked. She remained dry. A cry from the other side of the room told her not everyone was as lucky as her, or as gifted as Nichrome.

“Your turn, now,” he said. The glint in his eyes was a clear warning: she better not mess it up.

Luckily it only took her three or four times to master the spell well enough to test the effects. She went to fill their glass to the magical fountain on Chrom’s desk and came back, watching carefully so as not to spill anything. She then tipped it against his dress and the water fell to the ground, pushed back from the fabric by her spell.

“You are better at this than at Arca Reparo,” Nichrome teased, once more looking arrogant.

Jeanne shot him a dark look.

She still hadn’t managed to repair her music box and was quite frustrated over it.

She had talked about it to Tamao, who encouraged her. “If it’s important to you, you will get it,” Tamao said, warmly, and it was enough to make Jeanne feel weak at the knee.

Jeanne had also noticed her friend only rarely worked in the Common Room. Outside of meals, Jeanne struggled to find Tamao… or at least she did until she realized Tamao was often in the study room or in the library. With Lyserg.

The first time she sat down nonchalantly to talk with them. The second time she hesitated before sitting down. The third time she didn’t want to bother them, so she just left.

* * *

The first October weekend, Jeanne was up early. She wasn’t the only one. The Gryffindor Common Room was busy as an anthill, with everyone getting ready for the first outing to Hogsmeade of the year. Since First Years were not allowed to go, her dorm mates slept in, and she went down alone to the Great Hall.

Tamao was not yet there, nor was Horo-Horo. Jeanne thought this was an opportunity to get to know other Gryffindors. Then she met the gaze of Lyserg at the Ravenclaw table. She smiled, he smiled, and then she decided to go to him.

“What are you so happy about?”

And that was how he greeted her when she sat down next to him.

"Nothing, I’m just happy."

His eyes gleamed.

"I feel better just looking at you. Strawberry jam or apricot spread?”

She blinked innocently. "How do you know I will have jam?”

“Your wonderful abilities to devour sugary things have left a strong impression on Horo-Horo.”

Jeanne stopped smiling, her face hesitating between sadness and vexation.

“Tales of you have gone all the way across the Great Hall, do you realize?” And he widened his eyes to mimic admiration.

That soothed Jeanne, right enough, and they laughed together.

“Say,” she asked while spreading jam on her toast. “I wondered if… if there was anything between you and Tamao?”

“She’s a good friend. She’s nice. I like working with her,” he said thoughtfully, looking not at all nervous.

But he did not look her in the eye.

“What about you?”

“Me?”

“Do you have a crush on her?”

Jeanne opened wide eyes. Immediately she wanted to say he didn’t make any sense, but something stopped her. She didn’t really know why, but instead she asked something else.

“Why ask me?”

“Why ask otherwise?”

The way he smiled then, she had never seen him smile like this. It threw her.

“She’s my friend. That’s all.”

“Or you are interested in my answer.” And his voice was gentle.

“I…”

She felt a bit lost and adopted a defensive position, leaning back slightly. Then she stared, still confused, but also a bit angry.

“Maybe it’s you I have feelings for,” she said, because the best way to defend oneself was to attack. And he was honestly charming. Well. She found him charming. She wasn’t used to lying, dissembling, provoking. It felt odd. Put her ill at ease.

Her answer did not confuse Lyserg as much as she hoped. He calmly finished drinking his hot chocolate before answering.

“Feelings, maybe, but definitely not the same kind you have for Tamao."

There were several ways to interpret that. Jeanne blinked and fished for a new jab when he leaned in towards her.

“I apologize,” he said, looking into her eyes. “I was just teasing you a bit. I don’t want to fight with you.”

“Oh.”

“Friends?”

He held out his hand.

She hesitated for only the slightest second before forgiving him.

“Friends.”

They shared a smile, and then Jeanne went to town on her toast.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More characters peeping up! It's peaceful, isn't it? For now.


	9. Tutors and tutees

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I came to eat with you,” she answered easily, before grabbing the plate of roast.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The art that appears in this chapter is courtesy of Danica over here on tumblr: https://u-ritmu-srca.tumblr.com/  
> It's beautiful and I cannot thank her enough! Please go shower her in love and thanks. Her Jeanne is so cute I almost died <3

Because almost every student was in Hogsmeade, Jeanne did not see many people in the school during the day. She finished her Astronomy work – a sky chart – that Rutherford had asked them to do, and then she wandered through the library for an intriguing book to read in the evening, but found none.

When hunger pushed her to the Great Hall at barely noon, she met Padma, Susan and Ann, who were leaving.

“We ate a brunch,” Padma apologized.

“No worries,” Jeanne smiled.

She was a little surprised by the behavior of their friends. They were good friends, because they shared dormitories and classes, but Jeanne rarely ate with them, because she so often shared her meals with Tamao. Tamao who was in Fourth Year. Tamao who was probably in Hogsmeade.

Jeanne realized that painful fact when she saw the empty Gryffindor table, usually so full and boisterous. She scanned the Great Hall. The other tables were the same, sparse and quiet.

At the Slytherin table, she recognized Nichrom. He was eating alone. Because he was eating alone, she refused to think about it and just went to sit with him.

“Hullo,” she called when she stepped over the bench in front of him.

“Uh… what are you doing?” He stuttered. Her arrival seemed to draw him out of a long slumber.

“I came to eat with you,” she answered easily, before grabbing the plate of roast.

Nichrom stared a few minutes in disbelief.

“Does it bother you,” she asked.

“No, not at all," he said a bit quickly. "It’s just… This is not your table.”

“Is it not allowed to eat at another House’s table?” She knew the answer already, but she still asked.

“No,” he admitted. “Hao’s brother sometimes comes…”

Jeanne gave him a blinding smile as a reply and then seized the platter of potatoes.

“Are you going to eat all of this?” He stared at the piles of potatoes now in her plate.

Jeanne’s ‘yes’ sounded like a challenge. Nichrom left it alone.

“Have a good meal,” he teased when she stopped adding to it.

Jeanne raised her head in a very dignified manner, seized a knife and started slowly cutting her meat. Nichrom watched her for a few moments without reacting, as if hypnotized.

“What are you going to do, this afternoon,” she asked.

“I need to finish a parchment for History of Magic.”

Jeanne gave him a look full of compassion.

“What about you?”

“I don’t know yet. All of my homework is done.”

“Did you manage to repair your music box?”

Jeanne pressed her lips together and refused to answer, which had him chuckling. Mean little boy.

They ate for a few minutes in total silence. Jeanne chewed her roast hard, upset.

“How come you get to sit in our classes when you are just a First Year,” Nichrom finally asked.

Jeanne chewed a little slower, thinking through the answer she wanted to give.

“I don’t come to all of your classes. Just Tuesdays, as an observer.”

“An observer,” he repeated, lightly, as if hesitating between mockery and spite. “Except you work on the spells too, and you manage them just as well as us, while only coming to one class per week.”

Jeanne shrugged.

“I am good at Charms.”

“We all have one class where we are better than everyone else. It doesn’t mean we get to sit in advanced classes,” Nichrom argued.

“Maybe it should," Jeanne noted. A system of sets arranged by level. That’s how it is in… in other schools.”

The more she talked to Nichrom the more she guessed there was something more to him than his plain coldness. Better tell him as little as possible if she didn’t want him to guess she had spent a year in Beauxbâtons. Although… Did she want to keep it from him? She knew she didn’t want to talk about it. That did not mean it had to be a secret. She told Tamao, after all, and she had done so naturally, without asking herself any questions. It was almost weird, actually, both the fact that she talked so openly with her friend and was so reticent with this other friend.

“Sets by level”? Nichrom didn’t sound like he thought much of that.

She insisted. “Yes. You could… sign up for different level sets for a term. That way you could follow more classes depending on what you want to do after you’ve finished school. If you want to become a mediwizard, for example, you need more potion classes and less astronomy ones.”

“But you need to have some notions about every type of magic,” he said. “And you can’t know what you’ll want to do in your First Year.”

“Of course! That’s why you don’t… you wouldn’t have these options until your Fourth.”

Nichrom seemed to think about it for a moment before voicing his opinion.

“Why not. It’s interesting. But then you will miss out on forming strong bonds with classmates in your year, since you will be with different people every time.”

“That is the downside. But a contrario you can spend more time with people from other years.”

“So as to not be stuck with First Years like you,” Nichrom grinned.

Jeanne almost replied but then understood he was teasing. It seemed that word got out that she spent a lot of her free time with Tamao, who was three year older.

“What does it mean, a contrario?”

“On the other hand,” she replied thoughtlessly.

Nichrom made a puzzled face.

“It’s a Latin phrase,” she added.

“Latin,” he repeated.

Jeanne silently cursed herself. She had just managed to get him away from the sensitive topic, and now…

“Yes. Latin.” She looked at her plate, as if to say she wasn’t interested in the discussion.

Luckily for her, Nichrom did not pursue.

* * *

Jeanne spent the afternoon going over her Transmutation lessons with her dorm mates. The actual magic she managed well enough, but the theory felt elusive, and Professor Tepes had this habit of quizzing a few pupils at random to start his classes. That night, while she was talking with Susan and Ann in their Common Room about Quidditch, Matthew, who was in their class, came talk to them.

“I need someone to play chess with me,” he explained. “Fred is tired and Chris, Cygnus, and Elladora are all gone I don’t know where.”

Susan and Ann weren’t interested but Jeanne let herself be talked into a match. She was losing when the Sixth Year prefect interrupted her.

“Sorry, you two are First Year, right?”

Matthew and Jeanne glanced at each other before nodding, worried they had done something wrong.

“We need to talk about something. Meet up with your friends over there, please. It won’t be long, don’t worry."

Jeanne then noticed that the other two prefects were gathering everyone from First Year around the biggest table of the Common Room. She was so focused on the game board that she didn’t notice.

She and Matthew joined the small group that rustled around the two Fifth Year prefects.

“Are you all here?”

Jeanne saw Susan and Ann from the corner of her eye. Matthew and Padma were dragging Cygnus to their side, and Chris was standing at the very front, drinking in his elders’ words.

“Good,” the female prefect began. “It has been a month since you came to Hogwarts and you started attending classes. It may not seem much, but you probably already know where you struggle and where you don’t. In order to help you when it gets tough, the school has created a tutoring system.”

“This system was set up about ten years ago. It has already proved very effective and very well-loved by the students. Of course, keep in mind it is by no means an obligation. It is just meant to…”

“Give you a nudge in the right direction,” she smiled while he looked for the right words.

“To help you,” he continued. “This is the embodiment of the solidarity between the different years to all stretch ourselves. The way it works is very simple: we make pairs between students. One tutor and one tutee.”

“Yes, tutors and tutees. All gender combinations allowed.”

“Yes, yes,” the boy cut her off, clearly annoyed to have been interrupted for what he deemed to be details.

The prefect gave him a smile full of teasing and Jeanne decided she liked her.

“This system lets you be helped by an older student in the classes you struggle with. This year you will just have a tutor – male, female, or enby,” he added with a glance to his partner. “But next year, if you feel confident enough, you can start helping someone else by becoming their tutor.”

“That doesn’t mean you will lose your tutor. The person you are bound with can keep helping you through your years here. Only Seventh Years lose their tutors for good.”

The other prefect continued: “You can ask whoever you want to be your tutor. But if you don’t know anybody, we do organize a draw next Saturday between tutees and tutors. If you want to sign up, come talk to us.”

"Any questions?"

Jeanne immediately raised her hand.

“Yes, Maxwell?”

“Does our tutor needs to be from Second Year or can it be someone older?”

The prefect smiled.

“It can be whoever you want, there is no age restriction. Taking someone from the year above First is just a tradition. Roy?”

"You said we would keep our tutor throughout Hogwarts,” Padma said. “What if we don’t get along?”

“We said you could keep them. You do not have to. You can change tutors. You can stop talking to them whenever you decide to. However, if you want to switch during the year, you will have to find one by yourself, because we only do a draw in the beginning of the year.”

Padma nodded to show she understood.

Cygnus raised his hand. “Can it be someone from another House?”

“Yes. The draw includes every student of the school, not just Gryffindors.”

“So where can we go work with them?” Susan worried.

“Study rooms exist for that exact reason.”

Jeanne remembered these small rooms, each time occupied by busy students peering at textbooks. She had seen three, each on a different floor.

“Any other questions? No? Then you can go. Remember to come see us before next Saturday if you want to be entered in the draw.”

The flock of First Years broke, and Jeanne immediately hurried towards the exit of the Common Room.

* * *

“Tamao!”

A disheveled Jeanne caught up with her friend in the Entrance Hall, bounding down the stairs four by four to get to her near the doors.

“Did you know,” and she breathed hard because of how fast she’d run, “that there was a tutoring program between students here?”

Tamao blinked.

"Y-yes, of course."

Jeanne immediately continued: “Do you take part?”

Her friend nodded.

“Who are you with?”

Jeanne’s heart beat so hard she could hear it in her ears. Her friend had turned bright pink.

“Could we… could we talk about it outside?” She seemed uneasy, head bowed, voice soft; only then did Jeanne realize that everyone else was looking at them.

Only then did Jeanne notice the people staring around them. By yelling on the staircase like she had, she had brought a lot of attention on them.

“Ah, well, of course.”

Tamao gave her a relieved smile and walked through the gates to the park. A freezing breeze played with her hair, sending pink tresses all around, and Jeanne watched her wrap her cape tighter around herself.

They walked a few minutes in silence. The parc was empty around them, deserted by the sun and the students. Jeanne shivered. The cold was biting into her hands, and she hid them in her pockets.

“So,” she finally started, her stomach wrapping into knots.

Tamao took some time to answer.

“During my First Year, I took part in the draw and I was assigned to Marion. You remember when we met those Slytherin girls? It was the blonde one."

"Oh." Jeanne was surprised.

“It… it didn’t go well, but it didn’t go badly, either. She helped me in several classes. We didn’t really talk and we didn’t really like meeting up, but our relation was… normal. We said hi in the hallways. In the end Marion said she was bored and she didn’t want to continue. I… I am still grateful she continued until the end of my First Year even though it had been boring her for a while.”

Jeanne wondered how Tamao felt, being treated so awfully by her former tutor. The memory of the two girls mocking her made her bite her lips and tighten up fists.

“That whole thing didn’t really… make me want to try again,” she said, grimacing. “So I didn’t participate in the draw the next year. I didn’t get a new tutor, and I didn’t try to get a tutee. But since last year Lyserg sort of became my unofficial tutor.”

Jeanne noted that Tamao’s voice immediately became less strained. But, seeing as she didn’t add anything to that, she prodded: “What do you mean by that? Why ‘unofficial’?”

“Oh, well, we never said that is what he was. It’s… it’s understood. It’s as if we were, but we didn’t tell each other we were.”

“Did you have to?”

Tamao thought about it. “I guess not."

“When did you decide?”

“We didn’t, really. That one time we were both in the library and he sat at my table. We knew each other, a little, because of Yoh, but we had never talked before.”

Tamao paused.

“And?”” Jeanne wanted to know the rest, just as much as she dreaded it.

"He helped me with my Transfiguration homework. And I really am no good there so he offered to meet again to explain more. And the next time he said to call him straight away if I had any issues. And then I met him at the owlery and I managed to ask a question. We decided on a time and…”

The more she talked, the pinker she got, and the faster her voice became. She had to stop then, her breathing a little difficult.

“We fell into the habit of seeing each other, twice a week.” She made herself calm down a little. “We do our homework side by side and I ask for his help when I get stuck. It doesn’t have to be Transfiguration. That’s… that’s all.”

Now that she was done she was fidgeting uneasily. Her eyes were anywhere but on Jeanne, who was processing. Now she understood why she saw them so often in the library and elsewhere.

“So,” she said at length. “You don’t have a tutee.”

“No,” Tamao confirmed, a little lost.

“Would you accept becoming my tutor?”

Jeanne’s enthusiasm barreled ahead, ignoring Tamao’s slow blinks.

“I don’t know if…”

Jeanne’s smile died off.

“You don’t want to,” she guessed, upset.

“Yes, I do, well, I mean…”

Tamao was getting confused and fidgety, looking around as if to run, or maybe to find words to help her express herself.

“What I want to say,” she tried to start up again, “is that I don’t know if… If I will know…”

Her voice broke then, but Jeanne was smiling again. She moved closer, voice warm.

“Of course you will know. And you have three years on me, you have to be better than me at everything. Even Transfiguration.”

Tamao opened her mouth, then closed it. Jeanne’s confidence seemed to have convinced her not to.

“I am happy,” Jeanne then declared, capturing Tamao’s hand in hers. Said Tamao blinked, as if trying to understand something, but there wasn’t much to understand.

“Me too,” she admitted in a breath, and Jeanne’s face lit up even more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the end of part 1! Now, the world will open up a lot more, and we'll see a lot more characters. I hope you enjoy!


	10. Hunt under no moon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I dreamed of this, you know,” he whispered. “Getting you to lose your cool. But the game is less fun when it is won.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part II: The winds of fall.

“Anna,” Hao called. “Anna. Anna.”

He was playing with his voice, sometimes making it low and warm, sometimes high and sing-songy. Sometimes it was a call, sometimes a whisper. Sometimes spiteful, sometimes seductive.

“What,” the young woman cut him short.

Hao smiled to her. He hadn’t expected her to answer, not after ten full minutes of ignoring him and his myriad of varied calls. He should time her. Get something of a high score board.

“I fear you are in low spirits,” he provoked nonchalantly.

“Oh, am I,” she hissed.

Hao raised a brow. This biting irony wasn’t like her. Wasn’t it the best excuse to push her to her limits?

He put on the air of a worried brother-in-law.

“What did my twin do this time?”

His words were coated with false solicitude, with a hint of worry. Her angry grimace told him she was about to blow up, and blow up she did.

He grabbed her arm to stop her slapping him, and held her firmly when she tried to disengage, growling.

“I find you rather impulsive tonight,” he mocked.

She had completely lost her cool, which usually wouldn’t happen to her. Her slaps – or her attempts – were always cold. Never boiling. Her lips remained tightly pressed, not twisted in the angry sneer she now sported. Her eyes would glint with annoyance, but not burn with rage.

Hao blocked the left fist coming to him – he was used to the blowback with her – and pushed her against the wall.

“I dreamed of this, you know,” he whispered. “Getting you to lose your cool. But the game is less fun when it is won.” And he allowed some mocking regret to color his words.

Anna was furious. She snapped her jaws when he came close, and he felt a monstrous roar in his loins. She thought he would kiss her. She had been scared. And not just of what he would do.

He had been circling her for years and, tonight, he could make of her whatever he wanted.

If only he had wanted something out of her.

“You and me…” He whispered. “Now wouldn’t that be something.”

For a split second he indulged himself. He imagined the nails scratching his skin, the fight with her. Just a second. Then he tilted his head and stared her down, a half-smile on his face. Her blond hair wasn’t sagely framing her face tonight. It stuck to her cheeks and danced across her eyes.

“However,” and this time his regret wasn’t fake, “I am not the one you need.”

Anna’s eyes widened when he let go. He forbid himself the slightest hint of tenderness, even though he wanted to put some order in her rebellious bangs. Instead he gazed at her, as if dreaming, following the curves of her chin, her pinched lips, her reddened and lost eyes that soon started to fire up again. She was tense, but slowly she built up her mask of ice again.

Hao was still smiling. What a woman, that one was.

“We have our rounds to finish,” he politely reminded her, nodding towards a corridor.

She raised her head, moved past him without looking and marched ahead. He slunk behind her.

“How long has it been since you’ve stopped sleeping,” he suddenly asked when they were in the Transfiguration hallway.

Anna tensed again.

“A while.”

Her voice was a whip through the silence. Cold. Hostile.

“Since we came back here is my guess.”

Since she couldn’t sleep with Yoh.

She didn’t care to confirm it.

“We’ll have to do something,” he said nonchalantly. “You are way too sensitive to be a trustworthy partner to me as Head Girl.”

She ignored him. Hadn’t he been awful enough?

“And the teachers will notice if you turn into a vampire. They’ll expel you, you know.”

“Like you would care,” she snapped, spitefully. There she was, his Anna again.

“Why wouldn’t I?” He raised an eyebrow. "You are my future sister-in-law."

To that Anna said nothing and this time he decided to leave her be. They only had one more floor to check, and then they would be free of their duties.

A noise in a nearby corridor drew their attention.

Without a word for each other, they both turned in the Charms corridor.

“Ah,” an old man in a painting said when he saw them. “I did tell her she was way past lights out.”

“Where?” Hao asked.

“She went that way, after that I don’t know.”

“Who?” Anna asked.

“No clue. A student. Short hair. Young.”

“First Year?”

“No. Older.”

The two Head prefects thanked him and started down the hallway he mentioned.

“We split up,” she said.

“Nope.”

Had she been a Basilisk, her gaze would have killed him, but she wasn’t. Unfortunate, both for her and the troubled student who went outside in spite of the rules, he thought amusedly.

He drew his wand, and Anna did the same.

“Lumos,” she cast as they entered a darkened classroom.

“Hominum revelio,” Hao preferred, and his spell very briefly revealed someone in a nearby corridor.

“What House, you think?” He spoke as if it didn’t matter, trying to guess which way their little escapee would try to use to get back to her room.

“Wandering around in the hallways at night, that’s very Slytherin-like.”

“I would say Gryffindor,” he replied, turning back.

There was a secret passage close by that would get them to the floor above before the bad, bad student. Anna’s footsteps taught him she was following, though her heart wasn’t in it.

A few minutes later they were on top of the main staircase. The Gryffindor would have to come up them to go to bed. They stationed themselves in an alcove. They were standing by a window, but the absence of the moon rendered them perfectly invisible. The torches only lit up the other side of the hallway.

“Nox,” Anna whispered beside him.

The tip of her wand went dark.

They waited a long time without seeing anyone. Hao felt impatient, and it only grew worse with every passing minute. Besides him Anna let out exasperated sighs.

“Guess you were wrong,” she said at length.

“A Ravenclaw would have had to come through here, too,” he said, annoyed.

“Hugglepuff or Slytherin it is.”

Or the student was leaving her dorm, not coming back, the young man thought. He didn’t say it out loud, though.

“You seem to like it, students out of the dorm,” he noted.

An angry look.

“I don’t like it half as much as you do,” she retorted.

There was a silent reproach there. He couldn’t offer a rebuttal. He liked it when students violated the rules. It gave him an excuse to chase them down. And then, for his personal pleasure, he dragged them to Silva or Mikihisa, when they were Gryffindors. Angering the two adults always felt particularly pleasing, even when his father repeated he was no longer the Head of Gryffindor.

Hao gave Anna a teasing smirk but she looked away. Without another word she left him there and started her dorm. Hao hesitated a moment as to whether he should wait for the student to be back – she would have to come back at some point – but the idea of waiting perhaps more than an hour for her was annoying.

Annoyed to have missed his mark, he walked down the steps he had meant to use as his honeyed trap and made his way to the dungeons. But when he arrived on the ground floor, he saw Amidamaru. The ghost did its very best to ignore him, and that felt rather suspicious.

“Amidamaru,” he called just as the ghost started to go through the wall. He saw him hesitate, and he knew what that meant.

“Where to?”

His voice was hard now.

The ghost did not answer but his eyes betrayed him. Hao turned his attention back to the heavy gates leading to the park. Better and better. Walking through the park was just as forbidden as walking in the corridors was, but the punishment would be worse.

A thin smirk tugged at her lips. He could have waited there, but instead he left the castle.

The park was plunged into thick darkness. Striding in there to look for a fugitive who would do everything to stay stealthy would be like hunting for a mandrake in a forest. But Hao was hunting, and he wouldn’t go to bed before he had his prey in his jaw.

He walked down the few steps that led to the gates, knelt and tapped the ground with his wand. The grass started to shine dimly, but it was cut too short to see any footsteps.

Since this method did not work, the Head Boy stood back up and cast Hominum revelio again. As expected, the kid was somewhere outside of his range.

“Spero Patronum,” he whispered. One last shot. To bring it he only had to think of Opacho’s soft smile, and a cloudy sheep appeared at the end of his wand.

Then he thought of Macchi, Mari, and Kanna. In the group that followed him, these three were like feral cats, and the sheep turned into three globules of light, each somewhat feline and somewhat not.

“Find her for me.”

Immediately the cats took off, each in a very different direction. Hao sat in the grass carelessly. It was cold; fall had come. But he only needed a flick of his wand to make his robes and shoes protect him from it.

Now he just had to wait.

Tossing his head back, he watched the starry skies. The moon was glaringly absent, making the night ideal for gathering specific herbs. Or for unicorns to reproduce.

After a few minutes, one of the cats came back. Hao jumped to his feet gracefully, excitement coursing through his veins again. He set out running after his patronus through the dark paths. He had to be quick. Before she escaped.

And quick he was, but not enough.

The cat bounded forward. Its light was briefly reflected on glowing hair and a glowing face, that of a nocturnal angel who immediately set off on her broom and vanished in the night.

Hao cursed silently. By the time he could get his broom there it would be too late to chase her down. She would surely land on the Astronomy tower, but she would be safely home in her Gryffindor Tower before he could make his way there, even if he ran. Except if she was a Ravenclaw… but he was still betting on a Gryffindor. Ravenclaws were not foolish enough to loiter around after lights out.

With a sigh, he dismissed his patronus. The cat purring against his legs vanished, and then he wordlessly cast lumos. The dim light showed him thorny bushes, and purple flowers all over the earth.

He should just go to his dorm. After all, he had a sleeping draught to prepare.


	11. Sunshine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “If you want to repair it, you must think of the way it will be when repaired. Not about repairing it. I think you need to… To picture the ballerina turning in your mind. The music in the air. I don’t know if that is very clear.”

It was the sun that drew Tamao out of her sleep on the morning of that Sunday. One of her dormmates had drawn the curtains slightly open, and the light came to rest on her eyelids.

Tired due to the lack of sleep, Tamao stretched and rose. She drew the parchment sagely wrapped next to her bed and tried to remember her dream, but she did not. With an annoyed sigh she put her homework for Lilirara down. She had not added even one line.

The warm water of her shower did her good, washed the sleep away. Glancing at the mirror, she noticed the big purple pockets under her pink eyes and lowered her head. It would be useless to try and hide them, but she still used some of the foundation Keiko had given her for Christmas, after she asked.

As she was going down for breakfast, she crossed paths with Pirika. She was surrounded by her friends and didn’t see her; Tamao did not dare slip in to greet her. Instead she hugged the walls towards the Hall, but as she entered she almost slammed into Hao. For a split second their eyes met.

He was the last person she wanted to see today, after he almost caught her in the park. If she hadn’t managed the attraction spell…

She immediately looked away, but was not fast enough not to see the burst of flame in his. Head bowed, she strode over to the Gryffindor table and only breathed better when she sat in front of Horo-Horo and Ren, who fought over a bottle of milk.

Curiosity forced her to lift her head, and she was relieved to see that Hao did not look her way. He was over at the Ravenclaw table and… giving something to Anna? Would he… would he tell her he had seen her?

Anxiety formed a hard pebble in her stomach. It took her a few long minutes of breathing exercises to persuade herself it had been dark and he wouldn’t have been able to recognize her the day before. She could not eat until she was convinced.

“Tamao!”

Jeanne’s enthusiastic voice immediately cleared her head of worries. It only took one look at her angelic smile when she sat next to her to feel better. Horo-Horo and Ren stopped their skirmish when she arrived and Ren managed to swipe the bottle of milk.

“Hello, Ren," Jeanne greeted him, and Tamao heard the question behind her words.

“Hello, Jeanne,” Horo-Horo replied gleefully as the Slytherin boy grunted. “You missed Manta and Yoh.”

“Can you pass me the orange juice, please, Tamao?”

Jeanne was always polite when she asked for something.

“Of course.” And Tamao grabbed the pot of freshly-squeezed oranges to give it to her.

“Thank you.”

Jeanne frowned.

“Tamao, did you get hurt?”

Horo-Horo and Ren immediately looked at her differently, and she blushed red.

“What? No, of course not,” and she hid her left hand, the one that got caught on thorns, under the table.

Jeanne put her hand on her right shoulder, and she grimaced. Jeanne immediately lifted her hand, worried sick.

“What happened?”

_I slipped on the staircase of the Astronomy tower,_ Tamao thought.

“Nothing. Maybe I… Maybe a spell in DADA.”

“DADA?”

“That’s the abbreviation for Defense Against the Dark Arts,” Horo-Horo answered for her. “If that’s the case, maybe you should go see Faust and Eliza, Tamao.”

She nodded pitifully.

“Who are Faust and Eliza,” Jeanne asked.

Ren laughed mockingly.

“You really need everything explained to you,” he said curtly when he saw her glaring.

“Faust is the nurse,” Horo-Horo explained. “Eliza is his wife.”

“His dead wife,” Ren added, a superior smirk on his lips at the chance to correct Horo-Horo.

“Yeah, Eliza’s a ghost,” he quickly completed.

Jeanne seemed surprised, but she did not comment. “What did you do in Hogsmeade yesterday,” she asked Tamao. “I didn’t ask you yet.”

“Oh, not much,” Tamao muttered. “I went to Scribenpenne to buy new quills. And then… I went to drink a Butterbeer with Lyserg at the Leaky Cauldron.”

The words made her blush. “I spilled it everywhere,” she mumbled, feeling self-conscious at the memory of beer splashing over the table and her clothes.

She had been in a bubble in the pub, one that encompassed just her and Lyserg. A bubble of happiness and warmth, and one that popped that exact moment. Of course, Lyserg had defended her, had fought with Macchi, but she would rather he hadn’t.

“I have never had Butterbeer,” Jeanne said dreamily. “Next year. Well, no – the year after.” Her voice sounded just a little sad.

Tamao gave her an awkward smile.

* * *

Soon after Tamao and Jeanne left the Great Hall. The former was sending timid looks to the latter. Jeanne glowed, as often. She had that kind of soft smile always on her lips, the one that sometimes spoke of naïve wonder and sometimes of infinite tenderness. Most people knew her now, everyone liked her, and it wasn’t the least bit surprising. She had an incredible amount of charisma and she was an icon of kindness, of sweetness. Tamao had heard Second Year Hugglepuffs wonder why she wasn’t in their House; they were right that she would have been right at home there.

“What are we doing," she asked with enthusiasm, and Tamao felt bad to have to break her dreams of a carefree afternoon together.

“I have to work, I have some papers to finish.”

Jeanne’s smile withered and Tamao felt her heart clench.

“Transfiguration,” the younger girl asked, shyly. Almost disenchantedly.

“Well, no… Runes.”

“Runes? What’s that?”

“Well, uhm, we translate? Runes? I wanted to finish this week-end but yesterday…”

She didn’t finish.

“Can I stay with you?”

Tamao accepted with a nod. She did not say it, but she felt moved that her friend wanted to stay with her even if she had to work.

For a while they ambled down hallways to find a study hall that wouldn’t be too busy. Jeanne did not want to go to the library, because she was there too often for her tastes. She did stand gawking at the Trophy Room, and Tamao had to threaten to leave her behind to get her out of there.

“There was a trophy for someone called Gamp, did you see? Like Elladora Gamp. That must be someone from her family,” Jeanne babbled excitedly as they made their way further.

“Tamao?”

The young woman tensed as she recognized the voice.

“Professor Mikihisa,” Jeanne greeted him first, turning to face their teacher. Tamao bowed in front of him, hands joined in front of her without letting go of her bag.

“What are you two doing here?”

“We wanted to find a study hall, sir. But they are all busy.”

Once again Jeanne was faster than her.

“You could use my room, if you wanted,” he said.

And, to illustrate his words, he opened it for them.

“Thank you, sir,” Jeanne said, surprised and happy.

“You are very welcome. It is not like we use it on Sundays,” Mikihisa chuckled.

Tamao gave him another bow and whispered a “thank you” that barely left her lips. He almost said something, but then didn’t, nodded, and left them.

Tamao put her bag down on a desk, and Jeanne followed suit.

“Oh, but wait,” she suddenly realized, “that was…”

Her eyes widened.

"That was your father,” she whispered.

Tamao didn’t want to answer, and she looked away. She made a rather cowardly Gryffindor, she thought, bitterly.

She gathered her things, the new quill, the inkwell and her unfinished Rune homework, and sat down at a nearby table. Jeanne approached, a little awkwardly.

“I…”

“Don’t worry,” and when she raised her head she tried to soothe her friend, “I’m okay.”

She forced a smile. She didn’t want to disturb Jeanne.

“It’s always been a little odd between us since… Since I arrived in Hogwarts. There really isn’t anything to worry about.”

Jeanne did not look like she believed her, but she accepted it, for now.

Sitting to the table close to Tamao’s, she took her music box out. Tamao knew it well now; Jeanne always kept it with her.

She watched her try, once, twice. In vain. The music box would not get itself fixed, and her Rune homework was completely forgotten.

"What do you think about,” she asked, “when you cast the spell?”

Jeanne gave her a somewhat lost look.

“I think I want it to be repaired.”

“Yes, but…”

Tamao bit her lip.

“What intent are you putting in there? What are you thinking of? What will the music box look like, when it is repaired? Can you picture it?”

“It will make music,” Jeanne said.

“Can you hear it? The music?”

Jeanne frowned. “I don’t understand,” she said sourly.

Tamao almost dropped it. Just almost. She was Jeanne’s tutor now, wasn’t she?

“If you want to repair it, you must think of the way it will be when repaired. Not about repairing it. I think you need to… To picture the ballerina turning in your mind. The music in the air. I don’t know if that is very clear.”

“Think of the goal to guide your spell, otherwise it will prove unable to give form to your intent,” Jeanne quoted mechanically, thinking of what she had learned in Beauxbâtons. The drills.

“Yes, exactly," Tamao nodded.

Jeanne took the time to think about it before returning to her music box. Tamao could not have said what went through her mind but this time, when she raised her wand and said the words, she heard the mechanism click. The ballerina started to gently sway to a soft music, albeit a little metallic.

“I did it,” Jeanne gasped.

Her eyes shone, and when she smiled to Tamao, it felt like a strike of lightning right through her heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These girls are too cute.


	12. Silver and Green

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Jeanne,” she piped up, “perfectly able to introduce my own self.”

Jeanne was looking at Tamao, admiring her beautiful hair, when Horo-Horo fell in a heap on the bench next to her. Seeing his dark frown, she tilted her head. “What happened to you?”

“I was put in detention by Boris.”

She raised an eyebrow.

“Were you naughty?”

He chortled.

“Nah, just forgot the thirty inches of parchment he asked us to write on Apparition spells.”

She chastised him with her eyes.

“So I’ll have to clean up the trophy room next Friday.”

“You won’t be alone,” Damuko piped up. “Two Ravenclaws are also in detention for arguing in a hallway.”

“Did they fight,” Jeanne asked.

“No.”

“Really?”

Damuko shook her head.

“Isn’t that… a little mean?” Tamao asked.

“There are no points to take away this year so teachers will give detentions out like candy,” Horo-Horo explained. “At least at first. So we know that even without the House Cup we better sit tight.”

Jeanne nodded to show she understood.

“When do the other schools get here again?”

“Two weeks,” the Gryffindor ghost replied. Jeanne’s heart immediately started to do somersaults in her chest. Two weeks. In two short weeks, Marco would arrive in Hogwarts… and potentially destroy the sweet, sweet atmosphere she had come to love this year.

* * *

The idea nested in her head and didn’t leave. She was distracted in class and felt knots fill her stomach. She had to stop thinking about it so much! But it was easier said than done because the closer they came to the date, the more it was talked about by everyone around her. Every bit of class chitchat started to focus on that and on that only.

“Jeanne, I think your wolfsbane has enough water now,” Thalim told her gently as she was drowning her plant. Her mind was miles away from the dozens and dozens of questions Susan and Ann were asking themselves about the Gandhara.

Feeling guilty, Jeanne put down the water and apologized, tears springing to her eyes. The teacher gave her a comforting smile before leaving to inspect the others’ work.

At the end of the class, Jeanne marched out of the class. She was determined to think of something else.

On Mondays she rarely ate with Tamao because she worked with Lyserg and only came to dinner a little later. She had started eating with her classmates, but right now Susan, Ann, and Elladora were busy talking about the prettiest French towns. That was after they had filled their Charms class with reveries of Beauxbâtons and the Botany hour with Gandhara. Chris and Cygnus, because they were both jocks at heart, only had Quidditch to talk about and Padma was nowhere to be seen. No doubt she and Fred were off to some mischief somewhere.

Entering the Common Room, Jeanne thus looked for Nichrom and smiled to see an empty spot next to him at the Slytherin table. Refusing to question her instincts, she marched over and plopped down in front of him. She would have to sit next to the blond girl who used to tutor Tamao, the one she did not like, but it would be okay.

“Hey there!”

The Slytherin next to her moved back with a disgusted expression. On the other side of the table, Nichrom had frozen, mouth open, big warning signs in his eyes.

“Don’t tell me you’re going to do your whole speech about “each House their own table”,” she laughed, leaning in to grab herself some water.

“But… but…”

Nichrom seemed at a complete loss for words. Was it because he was here with his friends today?

“Red and gold at our table,” someone left of Marion said. “Interesting.”

Jeanne had to lean forward quite a lot to get a good look at them. Brown hair. Long, in a ponytail. Voice said… boy? He had gigantic earrings with a big gold star in a black and red circle.

“Are you not going to introduce us to your girlfriend, Nichrome?”

He had a sugary tone that Jeanne decided she didn’t like. Plus he made Nichrome go beet red like he was Tamao. Or not like he was Tamao. Instead he seemed about to blow up.

“Jeanne,” she piped up, “perfectly able to introduce my own self.”

The boy tilted his head. “Jeanne,” he repeated, instead of doing her the courtesy of introducing himself in turn.

Jeanne thought she saw his eyes gleam and wished she could make him swallow his idiotic smirk.

“And who are you,” she asked.

It did not make him lose his smile. She thought he was about to turn back and not answer and it made her grit her teeth.

However it seemed like he must have attributed some value to her because he gave her his name.

“Hao.”

How could she already feel like punching him?

Nodding sharply, she turned back towards Nichrome, but… his eyes were fully on that pretentious and mean ‘Hao’ guy.

“First Year, right?” Hao was trying to get her attention again. She really disliked the way his voice sounded like a purr, and she tensed. She felt in danger. Why?

“Yes,” she nodded. Glancing sideways towards him, she realized he wasn’t looking at her. He was waiting for Nichrome to confirm, which he did, with a weird nod that felt mechanical. Like he was a slave obeying his master’s orders.

She did not like that one bit.

“See you in Charms, Nichrome,” she spat before rising. She wouldn’t stay one more second at this table.

Her classmate finally seemed to be himself again and gave her a hurried nod. It made her feel sick. Channeling her most noble gait, she left without rising at Hao’s bait when he quietly suggested she was ‘fleeing’. Crossing the Hall, she sat at the end of the Gryffindor table and wolfed down her plate. She was so brutal with it she scared the two Second Year in front of her.

* * *

Unfortunately for her, she had her Second Year Charms class the very next morning, and she was still angry. She told herself several times that she had embarrassed him in front of his friends, that she shouldn’t be angry with him, that even though his friends were unbearable Nichrom was nice. He really was. She told herself a whole world of mottos about peace and compassion and forgiveness.

She was still upset when she sat next to him. The dark look he sent her did not help warm them up.

It was a purely theory-focused class. Jeanne scratched at her parchment without understanding half of it. Chrom dictated what they should write down. And though she glanced from time to time towards her left, Nichrom did not once look at her.

By the end of the class, however, she had simmered log enough to try and attempt to make up.

As he started putting his things away, she called his name. “Nichrom.”

He glanced at her.

“I forgive you.”

He tensed and resumed putting his things away in total silence. Upset, she bit her lip and tried to understand what he meant, but he just left the room without looking at her again.

Undeterred, she strode out after him.

“Nichrome, wait!”

“What?”

He turned on his heels so sharply she almost slammed into him.

“What do you want?”

His tone was angry. Venomous. It was so aggressive it shook her.

“Why are you so angry,” she snapped. “Shouldn’t you be relieved? I said I forgave you.”

“Forgave me,” he repeated. “Ah so everything’s peachy keen then, if her Holiness Jeanne forgives me.”

He let out a big, ugly laugh. It was choppy, cruel, sad, mad, mean. It meant to hurt.

“I suppose I should feel honored. Humbly bend the knee to receive Your Holiness’s forgiveness.”

“What are you doing,” she yelled, horrified, her voice skittering in the high ends of her range.

“I don’t need your forgiveness,” he yelled right back. “I don’t have anything to feel sorry for!”

Jeanne felt her cheeks burn. She was angry again.

“You let your friend… you let him… You say you are my friend but you didn’t behave like one!”

“And what would you have had me do, Jeanne?” He spat her name. “Should I have asked them to leave you alone?”

“Yes! For example!”

He laughed again. He really looked mad now, in the tragic sense of the word.

“But what did you think would happen? You sat at our table! Don’t count on me for anything! It’s hard enough as it is, not that you would now. What would a little beloved saint like you know about anything?”

“Stop saying I am a saint!”

“And yet that’s exactly what you are! Always smiling, always sweet, beloved by all. _You_ have never struggled to be accepted, it’s all easy for you. Everyone loves you, even the teachers, you’re so bright!"

His way of sarcastically putting emphasis on his words hurt. His reproaches hurt. And most of all his pain hurt. It was one she felt like she knew.

“Why…” she started. Then she breathed in, breathed out, tried to calm down, to control the way her voice trembled. She didn’t want to cry, but she felt tears coming up.

“Why do you say…. That it’s hard to be accepted, when you say that, are you talking about the other Slytherin?”

Nichrom didn’t answer. His silence felt hostile, and his eyes were angry.

“Nichrom,” she said firmly, “if it’s not going well, you need to ask to switch Houses.”

She had barely finished her sentence that Nichrom was choking on that ugly laugh. The one that flirted with madness.

“Switch Houses? Ah but of course. Saint Jeanne always has a solution! No, dearest, it doesn’t happen like that, you don’t _change Houses_.”

“But if…”

“What would it get me, uh? Even if I did?” He didn’t let her talk. “You think that if I was in, say… Gryffindor! You think if I was in Gryffindor, people would forget that my name is Nichrome Patch?”

Jeanne felt like she had just been slapped. She opened her mouth, closed it without letting out a sound. She could hear the laughing around her, the whispers, the mean looks, the dead spiders.

“You wouldn’t understand,” he spat, voice low and angry.

“I understand more than you think,” she said, forcing the words through a dry throat.

She met his gaze without blinking. Felt something run along her cheek.

“Why do you think,” she said, separating each word to say them right, “that I came to Hogwarts instead of continuing my school years in Beauxbâtons?”

The anger that twisted his face faded, and he gazed at her confusedly. She could see him hesitate.

“Marco, Meene, John, Porf, Larky, Chris, Kevin… The teachers in Beauxbâtons are a family and I was a part of it. Do you think the other pupils reacted differently to me than the Hogwarts ones to you?”

Her vision grew entirely blurry, and that was when she realized that her eyes were full of tears. Angrily she wiped them away and stared into Nichrom’s eyes.

“If you don’t want to be my friend…”

Her throat tightened, and she could not get the rest out. Grimacing, she touched her throat to try and ease it, but the words refused to leave it.

“That’s not,” he said hesitantly, “it’s not that I don’t want to, Jeanne, I just… I… I was angry because I thought…”

He had deflated quite like a balloon. All of the rage, the mad need to be mean and cruel was gone.

“Sorry.”

He stayed one more moment in front of her, hesitating, looking for her eyes. She simply nodded, still unable to talk. He adjusted the strap of his bag on his shoulder, turned tail and fled.

* * *

Jeanne waited for the end of the day to feel any relief. Since her fight with Nichrom, she wanted just one thing, find Tamao. Her friend always managed to make her feel better. She had had hoped to have her all to herself at dinner, but Lyserg had come to share their meal. He needed pitying ears to listen to his saddened rant about an undeserved punishment he received from the caretaker.

That evening she curled up on one of the comfortable Common Room chairs and practically purred when Tamao sank into the neighboring bean bag.

“Did you want to talk to me about something, Jeanne?”

Tamao had guessed. She was so careful about Jeanne, so attentive.

“Oh, no. Well, yes. I had a spat with Nichrom.” She paused. “But we made up. I think.” Tiny frown. “I guess we’ll see next Tuesday.”

Tamao gave her a smile, and she felt good.

“Say, Tamao,” she suddenly decided to say, “would you teach me to fly? I didn’t have lessons in Beauxbâtons and… I really like it. I have Flight tomorrow afternoon but I would really like to fly with you.”

“Of course, okay,” Tamao accepted without the slightest hesitation. “We can go next weekend, if you want.”

“Yes!”

And Jeanne cuddled deeper in her chair, a smile on her lips and a warmth in her stomach.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They met! They met! And it immediately brought chaos.


	13. The Broomshy Kid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Don’t you worry, little sister,” he whispered mischievously, “I don’t kiss and tell.”

"Aaand you lost. Again, Stebbins laughed as his queen destroyed Macchi’s king. Hao could see her fists go entirely white and it made him smile. She hated chess.

She almost wrecked the board as she stood up and left to storm through her dormitory. Mari passively watched her go.

“Mati is boring now.”

“Do you feel abandoned, Mari?” Hao kept his voice light. Marion looked at him for a few moments in silence.

“Mari is bored without her.”

Then she went back to her Rune book.

With a careless flick of his wand Hao had all of Mathilda’s pieces nicely go back to their box. Stebbins, who was struggling to get a knight to go back to his without a fuss, looked on in admiration.

That had her laugh.

Hao didn’t mind. He was used to being spied on by her. Her and everyone else, really.

He rolled his wand in between his fingers, thinking.

He too was bored. Flying would be a nice distraction.

* * *

There was already someone on the Quidditch pitch when Hao arrived with his Galaxy 8. Two girls, on the old school brooms. They flew low.

Hao thought of walking back. He came here by force of habit but he wasn’t about to do loops around the pitch. Wouldn’t that be utterly boring?

At that exact moment he recognized Tamao’s pink hair and the monster roared in his chest. That girl… He had realized she was his escaped prey the moment he met her scared, tired gaze the morning after. If only he had caught _her_. Mikihisa would have been so upset to see his darling little girl dragged in front of him! It would have been delectable. She took that from him.

The two girls had stabilized and Tamao was seemingly explaining something to her friend. She was making sweeping gestures with her hands, while her friend held on to her broom like a lifeline. Hao moved towards them.

He was still a dozen feet away when Tamao noticed him. Her mouth immediately clamped shut, and her face took on pretty poppy colors. Hao smirked as he raised his head to look at her.

Next to her, the white hair that betrayed Jeanne Maxwell-Lasso flew when she turned to look at him – having noticed on Tamao’s face that something was off. She examined him critically.

“What are you doing here?”

Instead of answering right away, Hao looked at her in turn. Her eyes were wild but her shoulders shook, and she was hunched over her broom. She must only have had a few hours of flight under her belt, poor thing.

“I don’t know, what could I be doing with a broom on the Quidditch pitch?”

“We would appreciate it if you went to fly somewhere else,” she said with as much dignity as she could muster, which at the moment was not much.

Hao’s lips twitched into an easy smile.

“I’m afraid that this pitch isn’t yours exclusively, Maxwell-Lasso.”

She paled, as much as it was possible for the snowflake to pale. It felt good to have hit true, and he let out a big belly laugh.

“Oh, was that a secret?”

He did note that Tamao wasn’t surprised. Of course, she would know, if the two were as close as the rumors said.

“Jeanne,” Tamao called.

Flying closer to her friend, she put a hand on her, and immediately Jeanne relaxed. She turned to look at a confident Tamao. One who didn’t look half as afraid as Hao was used to see her.

She must have been putting a lot of effort in this pretense of bravery. Perhaps Macchi had no reason to be jealous.

“Come with me,” she said. And, pushing her broom, she guided Jeanne’s a little further. Hao laughed at their escape – their pitiful attempt to escape. He really did not feel like letting them go. Not when he was having fun.

Getting on his broom, he kicked off, aiming right for Tamao. She only avoided him by inches and had to do a barrel roll.

Jeanne screeched. “You are completely off your rocker,” she yelled, fear giving in to anger.

Anger suited Hao.

“I didn’t know you could bark,” he replied with a smirk.

She threw daggers at him and would have snarked back, but Tamao made her way back to her. “It’s okay, Jeanne,” she said, soft, avoiding his eyes. “Come on, let’s go.”

“We shouldn’t have to leave just because of him,” she growled.

Tamao, however, did not seem willing to change her mind and was aiming for the ground. Hao cut her off violently, forcing her to shift back towards the sky. Were her eyes gleaming with fear or anger? He liked both possibilities.

“Taking off on a broom, we all know you’re good at that, aren’t you?”

The way her eyes lit up in understanding was beautiful. Especially when it turned into horror. Hao moved his broom closer to her until their thighs almost touched, and leaned in towards her face. Her eyes were wide, and her bottom lip trembled.

“Don’t you worry, little sister,” he whispered mischievously, “I don’t kiss and tell.”

Her cheeks turned bright red and he drank in the embarrassment. That was when he smelled a perfume, summer, blackberries, sugar.

He elected to ignore it and reached for her mind.

“Tell me just one thing. Is it for my brother, my father or the little broomshy kid?”

Confusion swallowed Tamao’s thoughts and showed on her face. He smiled but leaned back. Well, now, he was confused. Mallowsweet was common in love potions and it had made sense…

“Leave her alone!”

The little one’s yell made him laugh. He pushed himself back, and Tamao’s perfume left his nose.

He eyed Jeanne with amusement. She was trembling. She was angered, but not only that. In her eyes he saw something uncertain swim, even as she challenged him.

“I thought best friends didn’t keep secrets from each other.” He pretended to be surprised, and Jeanne could not keep from glancing at Tamao, who was still blushing.

"You are…"

Understanding dawned in her eyes.

“You are an Asakura,” she said, as if she was blowing open a locked door. Well… that really wasn’t the secret he hoped Tamao would let out, but oh well.

“Congratulations,” he mocked, giving her one slow clap.

“You are from professor Mikihisa’s family,” she continued.

“Among other things.”

Her eyes moved between him and Tamao. She slowly nodded, her cheeks slightly less crimson.

“You are Yoh’s brother,” Jeanne guessed.

“Among other things,” he repeated with a smile.

“That means… you two… well…”

She frowned, as if annoyed at herself, looking for the words to express her thoughts.

“Were raised together?” He laughed. “No, not really.”

Tamao suddenly seemed queasy, but Jeanne did not back down.

“But you are Mikihisa’s son,” she insisted.

“And you are Marco’s daughter and Luchist’s granddaughter,” he cut back, finding a much more interesting subject for them to discuss.

Jeanne raised her chin, refusing to look surprised. “Among other things.”

“Neither of them was ever great on a broom, must be in your blood,” he said joyfully, which caused her to tense. “Unless that’s just due to Beauxbâtons not teaching it in First Year?”

He said it lightly, but he knew perfectly well that he was hitting her where it hurt. Her face fell for just a moment before she plastered on an indifferent mask.

“How do you know,” she couldn’t help but still ask.

Didn’t she know why Luchist had left?

She was getting impatient. “Did Nichrome tell you?”

“No, Nichrome isn’t the one who told me.”

“Who, then?”

He held her gaze for a while before answering, such a long while she started to fidget on her broom. She was ill at ease and it was hilarious. “You really don’t know, do you,” he grinned.

Her eyes showed her confusion but she held on. With a haughty turn of her head she pretended to not be interested. Like he would believe that.

“Jeanne, Jeanne, Jeanne,” he drawled under his breath. He looked at the sky, and saw from the corner of his eye that her cheeks had flushed a little. “Luchist told me,” he finally dropped. It could have been pity that made him say it, but it wasn’t. He knew well enough that his words asked more questions than offered answers.

“Why would he?”

Her voice struggled to remain calm and controlled. Hao could tell, however, that she was troubled.

“Jeanne,” Tamao called softly.

She had moved to her friend’s side and was attempting to get them both to head to the ground as they spoke. But Jeanne didn’t let go of Hao with her eyes. She really didn’t want to lose the duel they just began.

A funny thought came to him.

“Say, Tamao,” and he wasn’t looking away from Jeanne, “what would you say to playing a little game?”

Jeanne blinked.

Hao moved his broom towards her and slid in between the two Gryffindors. Swinging both legs on the same side of the wood, he stared down at the novice and ran his fingers along her broom.

He could see panic in her eyes and it was a lot of fun.

“Now we switch,” he said simply as he jumped from his broom – which sagely remained stationary in the air – to get a comfortable perch behind Jeanne. She was shivering like a leaf as he put his hand beside hers on the broom handle.

“I run and you follow,” he explained to Tamao, who seemed halfway to throwing up.

“Hao,” she said, as if to stop him.

But the young man already had tugged at the handle, and he and Jeanne shot upwards.

Speed, wind, cold, height – all of these he loved. A shiver of delectation ran through his back at the familiar caress of the wind. Were he less reasonable, he would have attempted a few figures, but it might prove a little much for the beginner in front of him. The first term’s classes never really touched on real height, or real speed. Not so early. She must have been feeling a host of new emotions.

She was leaning forward on the thing, coiled around it like a vice. He could see how tense her back was, how her legs stuck together, how her slender fingers gripped the wood.

Was the brave little Gryffindor scared?

“I won’t let you fall,” he whispered in her ear as her long hair got in his mouth.

He then glanced back to see Tamao zoom towards them. She… She took his broom! She wasn’t taking any chances, then.

Winking at her, he waited until she was almost on them, leaned into Jeanne’s back and angled the broom into a nosedive towards the lake. In his arms, the tiny Gryffindor muffled a scream. Surely it was a little sadistic to find it funny, but he didn’t hold in his smile.

At the very last moment, he corrected their trajectory – Jeanne gasped – and had them fly just above the watery depths. Jeanne’s breathing got shallow, and he could see how white her fingers were on the wood.

Hao straightened up slightly, no longer so close to Jeanne who was still crouched. Her white hair took the opportunity to fly free, sometimes flicking his forehead.

Letting go with his right hand, he grabbed her fingers. They were cold.

“Let go,” he commanded, tearing her arm from the handle.

He could feel her trembling and her breathing sped up. He wrapped his free arm around her waist, keeping her close. It surely would do her panic no good, but she wasn’t about to fall.

Not mentioning it, and keeping her hand firm in his, he leaned them both sideways to brush against the water, holding on to the broom with only his legs.

“Tell me you don’t like this, I dare you,” he whispered.

Jeanne did not reply immediately. Was it pink he saw on her cheeks?

“I love it,” she said at length.

It was so satisfying he found himself smiling wide. To their right, Tamao was catching up and was staring at her friend, worried.

Hao straightened them both up and let her get both of her hands back on the handle. He then took hold of it with his left hand and inclined them upwards to go glide over the Forbidden Forest.

“But I would like it better with Tamao,” Jeanne continued. She had regained some control over herself, and he could hear provocation in her tone.

“Oh, I have no doubts about that,” he chuckled.

Tamao had caught up by then. Hao glanced at her.

“Do you want my spot?” An amicable proposal, and yet the older girl seemed less confident suddenly, uncertain.

Hao executed a maneuver and stopped his broom below Tamao’s.

“Get off.”

“Shouldn’t we rather… uhm… go back to, to the pitch?”

Helping himself up with the back of the broom, Hao stood, causing the handle to shake. Jeanne was desperately hanging on and visibly did not appreciate it.

“I am taking my broom back,” he said simply, though he calculated every word. “But if you like, you can stay with me.”

Jeanne sent them both a panicked look.

Swallowing hard, Tamao did as he expected her to and slowly got a leg over the Galaxy 8 handle he had just grabbed. He offered her his hand, which she gladly took, and then dragged the broom towards him, bringing Tamao and summer back to the puny Cleansweep. His fingers brushed against her hip as she let herself slip behind Jeanne where he had been sitting.

The broom started to shake dangerously. Three people on the school’s old models, that had to be some kind of record.

Hao pulled himself up in one clean movement to his own broom and circled around the girls as they adjusted.

“Happy,” he asked Jeanne.

The dark look she sent him was hilarious.

Tamao wrapped her arms around her to grab the handle and slowly get it to turn towards the Quidditch pitch. It was rather obvious she wasn’t used to having someone with her.

“Are you okay?” Jeanne worried.

“I’m fine,” she said, her voice a little tense. “It’s just that… it would have been easier if I had been on the front. For leaning in and all…”

“Tell me what to do, I will get us back,” Jeanne replied.

Hao kept the mockery behind his teeth as he loosely followed them. It wouldn’t have done if the two precious princesses fell headfirst into the Forbidden Forest. It was only once they were at the pitch that he took off towards the castle. He’d had his fun, now he wanted to fly.

Hao soared to the top of the Astronomy tower, circled the fourth-floor class windows and then swept down towards the Botany greenhouses, arms up, tasting the wind that hit his face. He just needed his legs to hold on. He loved these moments of air and freedom. There was no comparing the old Cleansweeps from the school and his own broom.

He was aiming for the main gates when he noticed Kanna, Mari, and Macchi near the greenhouses. He landed a few steps from them, and didn’t miss the fact that Macchi was quickly putting out her smoke and hiding the butt in a pocket.

“Macchi…”

He let the word trail off, content with a long look at the Sixth Year whose face turned as red as her hair.

“I told you you’d get detention,” Kanna chuckled, as if she hadn’t been the one who gave her the forbidden object.

Hao got bored of the topic.

“Having trouble,” he asked Kanna.

“I hate the first term,” she sighed, letting out a cloud of smoke. “Joke shops have come up with a mountain of new products over the summer and brats have their suitcases full. I’m handing out detentions left and right.”

"Not that you dislike that, come on,” Macchi grinned, back on track.

“No,” Kanna admitted with a meaner smile. “I give them weeks at a time.”

Hao turned towards Marion while the other two laughed each other silly.

“Mari, you did use to be Tamao’s tutor at some point, didn’t you?”

If his question surprised the girl, she didn’t show it, only vaguely nodding. Macchi, on the other hand… He could almost see her ears prick up. She had stopped chuckling the moment she heard Tamao’s name.

“And now, it’s…” He didn’t finish, though he knew.

“Diethel,” Macchi spat. She took the bait so easily.

“Hm…" He pretended to think about it. “Doesn’t look like you like that.”

Gritting her teeth, she looked away to avoid his eyes.

“You know, I could make it all better. You only have to ask.”

He saw her tense. He knew he had her anyways. Curious little thing.

“Make what better?” She was suspicious, a little.

“When I say better…I mean worse, I suppose. Whatever Tamao and Lyserg have.”

“Make it wretched,” Macchi laughed. It wasn’t a nice laugh.

She wasn’t a nice girl. Little tornado of possessive jealousy.

Hao gave her a smile, one that pretended to be comforting even though he had engineered this whole thing to make her mad.

“Wretched, yes. Would you like that, Macchi?”

They looked at each other, gauging. She knew very, very well what kind of pact she was making. Who she was making it with.

“Yes,” she said.

Her voice was a mix of exultation and challenge.

Hao’s smile widened.

He had his all-clear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is, of course, one of my favorite chapters. Did you like it? Please send some love Realgya's way!  
> The illustration was made by Cargodin over there on twitter: https://twitter.com/Cargodin. Please send some love to them as well <3


	14. Jam and owlettes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “When you say ‘save’, you mean like a lady knight protecting her princess?”

“Ponchi! Conchi!”

Tamao let out a sigh. Her neck hurt from twisting it so much, trying to glimpse her owlets. Shamash, looking as dignified and wise as ever, sat not far from her and opened a sleepy eye to look at her with. There was no trace of her two naughty owls.

With a shrug she turned to one of the school birds, a pretty barn owl who was nice enough to accept her letter. She needed eyes of scarab from the apothecary, having forgotten to renew her stock that summer. Hogsmeade prices were a lot higher than Diagon Alley’s.

A brown wood owl with a black ribbon on its neck took flight and grazed the back of her head. Black ribbons were a sure sign of the Tao family.

“Good evening, Ren,” she saluted politely as she turned towards the Slytherin.

“Good evening, Tamao,” he said amicably, though he did not look at her.

Once her own letter tied and the school owl sent, she watched Ren tie a small silver package to his bird’s talon.

“Is that for Jun? Her birthday is tomorrow,” she remembered.

He nodded, and then moved closer to the window, his owl on his glove. Then he sent it in the evening sky.

“I bought a necklace for her at Hogsmeade last week,” he commented, for once somewhat loquacious.

“It – She will s-surely like it.”

“Of course,” he said curtly.

Tamao blushed and took some time to recover.

“Are… are her studies going well?”

“Yes,” he confirmed, relaxing ever-so-slightly. “She passed her S.C.U.D.s with honors.”

“S.C.U.D.s?"

“Sorcery Culture Universal Degree."

He stayed still near her for a moment more, his eye on the setting sun. Tamao turned to watch it, too, appreciating the gradient of purples and oranges on the horizon.

Tamao looked for something to say.

“It’s nice. The sight from here,” she developed when Ren turned towards her a questioning glance.

“I guess. You would get better sights from the Astronomy Tower.”

“Or from a broom,” she continued. Ren grimaced. “Oh, I forgot…” It had taken her a second too long to remember Ren didn’t like Quidditch, or flying.

“You are probably right,” he said, cutting her short.

Tamao smiled weakly and then returned her eyes to the sky. Silence was nice enough for the both of them.

“Have a good night, Tamao,” he said when he left the owlery, about ten minutes later.

“Good night, Ren.”

For a moment more she stayed at the aperture, listening to the owls gently hooting. The sun was almost set now, and most of the birds were waking up, shaking and taking flight in graceful trajectories. She had to leave, now, before she started longing for a broom to do as they did.

* * *

Tamao had meant to sleep in Sunday morning, but the sun plucked her out of her dreams and she did not manage to go back to sleep. Grabbing her sketch pad, she quickly dressed up and left her dorm, tip-toeing out so she would not wake up her dormmates. Down in the Common Room she was surprised to see Jeanne, settled comfortably in a chair with a book in hand. She seemed to be waiting for her.

Good morning, Tamao, are you already up too? Shall we go have breakfast?

Tamao nodded and fell into step with her. In the Entrance Hall Hao was there, talking with Turbein near the teachers’ lounge. Jeanne stared daggers at him but he did not see them.

Tamao was relieved; she would not have liked another confrontation. He _had_ recognized her the night he almost caught her, and she did not think him ready to forget.

The two girls went to sit like they usually did at the Gryffindor table, almost empty at this hour, and they decided to try all the jams available.

“Morning girls,” Damuko interjected, “slept well?”

“Very well,” Jeanne nodded, carefully delineating which part of her toast was for apricot jam and which was blueberry.

“Toast, I miss that,” she admitted. “When you just dip it in hot chocolate, doesn’t matter what you put on it…”

Tamao gave her a shy smile.

“The wind says you and Hao had a little race, Tamao,” the ghost added, turning towards her. She immediately went red in the face and ducked into her orange juice. Just thinking back to it made her shiver. She couldn’t believe how foolhardy she had been! And yet, in the heat of the moment, it had felt normal. There was no way she would let Hao take Jeanne away.

“Or that’s what Tokagerô says. He was having a little card tournament with Chuck and Ashcroft near the lake when they saw you both zoom by.”

“It… it-it wasn’t… a race,” Tamao countered.

“Ah, so it was you,” Damuko deduced.

“Tamao was trying to save me,” Jeanne intervened, trying to give all the necessary explanations and not realizing she was making it all worse.

“Oh,” Damuko questioned. “When you say ‘save’, you mean like a lady knight protecting her princess?”

So much worse.

Jeanne hesitated, bit her lip, and finally nodded. That upset Tamao. Damuko was playful, but innocent, _kind_. _And_ the type to go tell that story to all the ghosts around, who were much less innocent and kind. She didn’t like to think of what the story would sound like, once it was twisted by spirits like Tokagerôh and the others.

And that word, ‘save’… After all, Jeanne had not been in real danger. Hao wouldn’t have… Sure, it was Hao, but… In any case, all of that was before all her own fault if Jeanne had been dragged into this. So to say she had ‘saved’ her… No, really, it didn’t fit.

“That’s so cute,” Damuko squealed.

“It’s a secret,” Tamao attempted.

Damuko exploded into peals of laughter. The fact that she was in love with Yoh had been a secret, too, but secrets didn’t exist in Hogwarts. Tamao knew it well enough. At least she tried.

“Do you want me to tell you a real secret,” Damuko leaned forward, a trickstery smile on her lips.

Jeanne leaned in and Tamao tensed, though she tried not to show it.

“They say that in Beauxbâtons, there is a lot of the curriculum focused on battle magic, and Mikihisa hopes to use that to open a dueling club when they get here.”

Tamao shared a glance with Jeanne, who only seemed half-surprised. She already knew of Mikihisa’s dream project, she just didn’t know he had finally decided to set things into motion. Jeanne must have known about Beauxbâtons curriculum.

“So,” Damuko said, “super surprising, isn’t it?”

Not really, Tamao felt like answering, but it wasn’t nice, so she just nodded to be agreeable to the ghost.

“Ah, I see Horo-Horo just came in! And he doesn’t seem super awake yet. I’ll leave you to it, I love to yell at him in the morning.”

The ghost glided away, leaving the two girls alone with their toast.

“Beauxbâtons… The other school delegations, they are coming next week-end,” Tamao tried shyly.

She observed her from the corner of her eyes but the younger girl did not answer, her eyes lost somewhere on the table. Tamao decided to leave her alone. She tried to envision what it would mean for her, but didn’t really manage. Mikihisa was already her teacher here at Hogwarts. It had frozen solid a relationship already cooled when he left her in Mahoutokoro. Not that she grieved him for it!

She had entered Mahoutokoro when she was nine years old, when Reoseb and Seyram’s father passed away. It was a school for children between seven and eleven led by Yohmei, Yoh’s grandfather. The other children went home every day on storm petrels but Tamao slept on site, alone with Yohmei and sometimes Keiko. Yoh and Anna were already enrolled in Hogwarts and Hao… Hao was Hao.

Some people thought that one day, the wizarding community would be big enough for Mahoutokoro to also become a college. Young Asian children could graduate from there instead of going halfway across the world to get to Hogwarts. These same people hoped for the same in Ilvermorny in the states, and for new schools. Uagadou in Africa. Castelobruxo in South America. Durmstrang in Northern Europe, like in Harry Potter. Sweet dreams… Yohmei called these people dreamers. He said that there would never be enough wizards and witches to require more than three schools. He already thought that Gandhara and Beauxbâtons – both private schools – were superfluous.

“I am…” Jeanne whispered hesitantly.

Tamao smiled to try and give her the strength to continue, but Jeanne didn’t look at her.

“Upset,” she finished.

Then she bit her lip. It was one of her nasty habits that Tamao noticed, every time she was thinking intensely about something. Tamao found it cute. It made Jeanne a little more real, a little more human. Most of the time, Tamao thought she was like an angel of light.

“I wanted… to be my own person. I am a little worried about… what will happen. When everyone else discovers… Hogwarts is my home."

Tamao felt her heart chip when Jeanne’s face finally showed how lost she was. Impulsively she grabbed her hand and held it tight in hers. Jeanne turned her attention back to her and gazed at her eyes.

“It will be okay,” she promised.

That’s what Yoh always said.

Jeanne thanked her silently. They smiled at each other.

“Want to go for a walk in the park?”

Despite the cold, was her silent caveat.

“Yes,” Jeanne immediately agreed, nodding. Her smile widened and Tamao felt warm, secretly happy to see her feel better.

“I am happy to be your friend,” Jeanne said as if it were nothing as she rose. Tamao gauchely followed, her cheeks turning bright red. The First Year did not seem to notice, taking her hand to drag her along.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know what they say, you can't make an owlet without breaking a few.... Hm.


	15. Red and Gold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You are annoying,” Jeanne suddenly interjected, as if on the brink of discovering one of the major axes of the universe.

"Hao!”

Mathi’s vengeful cry reached him all the way to the door of the Common Room. At his table, his two dormmates raised eyebrows. Nobody spoke to him like that. Nobody who was smart, at least. Mathi must be very angry if she was losing her mind. She had been smart enough to understand what was happening was thanks to him. She was starting to become familiar with his maneuvering, then.

The young woman marched over and the two Seventh Year sitting with Hao – currently deep in an Arithmancy homework – rose and left in a great hurry.

“Macchi,” Hao saluted politely, a smile on his lips.

She glared at him before looking away, as if taken aback by her own boldness. Hao saw her twist her lips, fighting very hard not to say anything she could not take back. He waited patiently until she found the most politically correct way to express herself.

“I just got out of my Rune class.”

“Oh, was it interesting,” he said, pretending both surprise and interest.

“Turbein gave us homework.”

“That is usually what teachers do.”

“In groups of two.”

“That happens.”

“That he chose.”

Hao smiled.

“May I know who the happy camper is?”

For a second he thought she would lose control, but she held fast. It was the first time he behaved this way with her. Usually it was other students who suffered from his tricks.

“You will never guess,” she said curtly, for once taking him by surprise.

Then she stuck her storm eyes in his and waited for him to try.

Hao laughed.

“Let’s see… What about Lyserg?”

Lyserg who would soon hate him, but that wouldn’t change much compared to their usual sweet relationship. There was this sorry business with his parents, after all.

“You got it in one,” she said dryly.

“Look on the bright side. When he’s working with you on that essay, he won’t be with Tamao.”

Macchi narrowed her eyes.

“Tamamura, eh,” she chuckled.

Hao plastered polite interrogation on his face.

“I suppose you have your reasons, and that it’s none of my business.”

“No, indeed,” he confirmed distractedly, having no intention to explain. He almost never did. Those who courted him tended to guess, after a while.

Macchi stayed silent for a while more, then decided to leave, no doubt to go bully cigarettes off Kanna. Hao did not approve and usually let her know, but for once he decided to let it go.

He looked at his Arithmancy essay again, quickly finished it and stretched lazily. A quick glance at the clock told him that it was time to get some food and he packed his things. On a nearby table, a few Fifth Years imitated him, sparking the same reaction from a few Thirds.

Mari was in that number.

“Mati will spend even more time complaining about Diethel,” she said in a half-reproach as they left the dungeons.

“Sorry, Mari. I have to admit I didn’t think about that.”

That was a lie. He did think about it, and she knew as much. He was just being polite.

She shrugged.

“Macchi doesn’t like Tamao,” she said flatly. A subtle attempt to angle the conversation.

“Macchi is jealous,” he teased gently, pretending not to follow.

“Tamao will need another tutor. Especially in Transfiguration.”

Did she really need to get confirmation? Macchi had seen through him easily enough.

“Some sort of temporary tutor,” he conceded. “Which subjects?”

"Transfiguration."

She didn’t add to the number but Hao did not mind. It was potentially obsolete information anyway, two years old at the least.

“Potions?”

Mari narrowed her eyes.

“No,” she said, not fully confident. “No, not Potions.”

* * *

Having followed all the way since the dungeons, the Slytherin group behind him was very disappointed when Hao did not sit with them. Mari and Macchi replaced him, which was something, at least.

Hao, for himself, had noticed his brother at the red and gold table, right next to Jeanne and Tamao. This was too nice an occasion not to take full advantage. Broomshy Jeanne almost choked when he sat next to her, and Tamao went silent for several minutes.

“Hey Hao.”

“Hey Yoh.”

“We were just talking about Christmas. I told Jeanne she could come home with us.”

Why in heaven and hell had he decided to sit with Yoh?

“My answer has not changed,” he parried first.

Yoh tried to keep his smile, but there was a sad twinkle to his eyes.

“Keiko would like it. For our last year.”

They both knew that starting next year, the probabilities of Hao spending any time with them would go from 0.1% to 0.0000001%.

“I seem to remember you were not at Izumo last year,” he said flatly. “Nor the year before.”

His brother would have to start taking his own advice first.

“Yeah,” Yoh admitted, a little embarrassed. “One more reason to go home this year. It’ll be nice. Especially if you come, Jeanne.”

Said Jeanne seemed very, very embarrassed, and Hao couldn’t resist taking a stroll into her mind. Ah, yes. She really, really wanted to say yes. And she really, really wanted to go home to celebrate with her ‘family’.

“You three could race again,” Yoh added, thinking in his naivety that this was a good argument.

But they could ‘race again’ right here in Hogwarts, no need to go to Izumo for Christmas to do any of it. Stealing Jeanne away would be too easy… but he could be creative. Steal Tamao away. Somewhere that wasn’t the air.

He would have to bear the Mikihisa Glare during Defense but he would live.

Next to him Jeanne frowned and was about to start explaining that a) there was no way and b) it had never been a race.

“Y-Yoh…”

Tamao, cherry red now, struggled to speak.

“I… I was thinking I’d stay, actually.”

“Ah,” Yoh went, flatly.

Hao wondered how Yoh would deal with that. Accept it, or try to convince his dad’s protegee to go home with him?

“Y-yes. For the, uh, tournament.”

There was a pause, and then Yoh’s face lit up.

“Ah, right! The Triwizard tournament!”

He turned towards his twin.

“We can’t go home. They’ll get it.”

Hao wished he had thought of it first. Yoh was the one who took him by surprise, going on about such an unpleasant topic at the dinner table.

“I must tell Anna,” he continued, rising. And forgetting his meal. And heading to the Ravenclaw table.

“Tss,” Hao sighed, looking at the half-eaten meal left.

Raising his eyes, he was met with the knowing smile of his sweet Broomshy friend.

“Someone doesn’t want to go home to mommy and daddy,” she said arrogantly.

She was on target, of course. Hard, in such conditions, to be mature about it, when his quiver of hurt was so full when it came to her.

“You should focus on your plate, Maxwell-Lasso,” he said sweetly.

Jeanne immediately panicked, looking left and right to see if anyone heard.

“Could we…” Tamao was attempting something. Gauchely. “Try to, uh, get along? For dinner?”

How entertaining.

“We could,” Hao said, neither refusing nor accepting. “By the way, Tamao,” he said as he saw Lyserg enter the Great Hall, “I heard you needed help in Transfiguration.”

Tamao tensed.

"N-no," she stammered.

“She already has Lyserg helping,” Jeanne volunteered, all too quickly.

Ignoring her, Hao smiled at his prey.

“You know you can ask me if you need to.”

And, as expected, the story told by her eyes was that he would be the last person she would ever ask for help.

As he talked, Lyserg had reached them, and seemed very surprised to find Hao with his two friends.

“Hello, Jeanne.”

“Good evening, Lyserg!”

“Tamao,” the Ravenclaw continued, ignoring Hao, “I wanted to warn you I won’t be available later. I really don’t like it, but I have a group essay with Matisse. We’ll try to get it over with as soon and as quickly as possible.”

Poor dear, Hao thought. He didn’t know that, on top of the group work, Hao had suggested real ‘work teams’, until at least the end of the semester. Of course, these teams would not change.

“See you next Monday,” he continued.

Tamao nodded.

“Have a good evening.”

“Thanks, we will,” Hao said jovially, knowing very well it wasn’t directed at him.

Lyserg glared but left.

“So,” Hao continued, cheerful as a shark. “About these Transfiguration lessons…”

Tamao sent him a suspicious glance that he struggled not to meet with a smile, bringing his glass to his lips to hide how much fun he was having.

“You are annoying,” Jeanne suddenly interjected, as if on the brink of discovering one of the major axes of the universe.

That time the smile was unavoidable.

“Really?”

“Yes,” she confirmed, unable to understand he was making fun of her. “And why are you at our table, anyways?”

“Well, you come to mine, don’t you?”

“It’s different.”

“Different how?”

“I’m eating with Nichrome.”

“And I’m eating with you,” he smiled.

“No,” she trudged on. “You came to be with Yoh and now he’s gone, so shoo!”

She punctuated her speech with a hand, as if to chase him away.

Hao, unmoving, raised an eyebrow.

Jeanne must have realized she looked silly, because she turned away to hack at her chicken, gritting her teeth. Tamao had stared at them through the whole confrontation but did not take part.

“Maybe you’re the one who needs private lessons, Jeanne,” Hao said placidly as he took another serving of vegetables. “For your manners.”

He saw her redden in shame.

“And Charms.”

She raised her head to shoot daggers at him, her cheeks still red but angry now.

“Who told you,” she asked between gritted teeth.

“There are no secrets in this castle, Jeanne,” he replied nonchalantly. “You have no idea how many rumors are born every day. Your struggles with a certain music box are among them.”

“You seem well-informed,” she insisted. Did she doubt Nichrome again? He didn’t need him for that. Chrom had told him, directly.

“It is part of my Head Boy duties, isn’t it? To know my pupils, to offer aid when they are in trouble.”

For the second time this meal his table neighbor almost choked on her pumpkin juice.

“We are not in trouble,” Tamao refuted, her voice shaky but her face firm.

“If you say so.”

He would come back to her later, when Lyserg’s absence started to grow heavy on her. She would spill her beans then.

“You will then be pleased to know my music box is fixed,” Jeanne said proudly.

Adorable.

He finished his meal, still getting a few angry looks from Jeanne. He would have tormented her with the soon-to-come arrival of her family in the castle but there were too many ears around.

“Do you have a tutor?”

Jeanne, still frowning, was wondering out loud.

“I am in my last year,” he reminded her.

Tamao wouldn’t have asked.

“Yes, but last year, did you have one?”

Hao noticed the way Tamao went pale. Of course. She knew.

“No.”

“And do you have a tutee?”

Could Macchi and Mari be considered tutees? Maybe. Not officially. And Jeanne had said ‘a tutee’ not ‘tutees’. And he did wonder where she was going with it.

“No.”

She frowned a little more. Then she relaxed all of a sudden.

“I am sorry.”

“What about,” he asked, sincerely curious.

“That nobody wanted to work with you.”

Hao would have burst out laughing if his mouth wasn’t full right that moment.

“I understand you want to help someone but we are not the right fit,” Jeanne continued, unaware of just how absurd she sounded. “You should offer your help to people in your house.”

“Jeanne…”

Tamao’s voice. Always so generous.

“I did not have a tutor, Jeanne,” Hao managed, as always fully in control, “because I did not need one. I am offering my help to Tamao first because she is family.”

Tamao tensed. To hear him say ‘family’ must have sounded malicious, he knew it. And her status in the Asakura household was confusing enough for that term to be subject to caution.

“So you mean you are trying to be nice,” Jeanne tried to conclude, completely missing the warning signs radiating from Tamao.

 _Of course not, the other way around, little dolt,_ he wished to answer. Instead he gave her a condescending smile.

“More that it is my duty.”

Duty to annoy his father with his protegee.

“I still don’t like you,” Jeanne concluded, “but maybe you aren’t all that bad after all.”

“Have I earned the benefit of the doubt,” he teased, stealing the dessert tray from Tamao’s hands.

That annoyed Jeanne, right enough.

“You could say it like that,” she conceded, trying in turn to snip the tray from him. In vain, obviously.

“Even after stealing you away last time,” he insisted, keeping the desserts above her head. Her fine white eyebrows furrowed in an adorable frown as she gauged him.

“Yes,” she said prudently. “Even after that. Though you have to admit it was not nice.”

Now with his pick of desserts, Hao put the tray down in the middle of the table.

“Neither nice nor mean, how would you call that, Jeanne,” he asked jovially.

She was clearly confused beyond belief, gnawing on her lips as she considered the question.

Hao rose before she found an answer, a bit of cake in hand.

“See you later. Careful about your hips, Jeanne,” he teased one last time as he climbed back over the bench before leaving.

He gave Tamao an amused smile as he left, noting how tense she now was. These Transfiguration lessons promised to be very interesting indeed.


	16. Travelers from the air

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He put his feet on the ground, pushed his glasses back on his nose, and before even greeting Luchist he looked for her in the first row of pupils.

_The Beauxbâtons and Gandhara delegations will arrive on Friday, 30 th October at 6. As a consequence, classes will exceptionally stop at five._

Such was the note posted on the large board in the Entrance Hall. It made the pupils more anxious than ever. Strangely enough it had no effect on Jeanne. She was with Tamao when they saw the board and, if her friend’s fingers searching for hers was a comfort, she did not feel her breathing quicken, nor her heart flutter. Marco would arrive on Friday. Nothing new. It would all go well, Tamao said it first. She still said it now, in the way she looked at her. She didn’t have to worry. She was at home in Hogwarts. She would be fine.

“My Rune class will be cut short,” Tamao commented as she read the message.

Jeanne did not have that kind of concern; none of her classes ever finished after five.

“Do you also need booster sessions in Runes, Tamao,” mocked a voice behind them.

Jeanne whirled around to find Hao and his shark-like smirk. They made her forget she was for world peace, sometimes.

Tamao flushed and Jeanne dragged her by the arm away from the arrogant Slytherin. She could feel his eyes on them and she imagined him laughing at them. Yet when she glanced back as they walked up the stairs she saw him talking with Yoh. He didn’t pay any attention to them. She had to fight with herself not to put him in the ‘villain’ box right away. It was very tempting.

* * *

The week unraveled at speed, and so before she managed to say ‘peace’ Friday had come and a very contrite Lyserg told Tamao they couldn’t get together for Transfiguration homework during the next week. Jeanne would not have paid it any mind if she hadn’t noticed Tamao’s gaze wandering to the Slytherin table. She didn’t think about Hao’s offer, did she?

Unless she was looking at Horo-Horo. He had accepted a bet with Ren that consisted in sitting at his table for lunch. Yoh – and Manta, begrudgingly – had accompanied him for support, but nothing could convince Lyserg to approach the Slytherin table, so he and Chocolove had joined the girls at the Gryffindor table.

They spent the time talking about the crazy amount of work put in by Hogwarts staff over the last few days. Indeed Ryu had been tasked, in a joint venture with Kanna, to prepare for the arrival of the Beauxbâtons and Gandhara delegations. The suits of armor had been polished and oiled, the hallways swept, the portraits undusted, the cobwebs swept away from the lights and the ceilings. In the park the hedges around the lake and the main path had been pruned, the Quidditch pitch mowed, and the castle steps washed with a great deal of water. Finally, large banners were deployed in the Great Hall to extol the four Houses and Hogwarts’ own emblem.

That evening, the pupils were to gather outside, where their House masters organized them in neat rows to welcome their guests. Jeanne saw Nichrome from afar in the crowd of pupils pressing around the large doors. They shared a secret smile. Their relationship had returned what it began as, before their ugly row. Something nice, and soft.

Once in the park, Jeanne cursed herself when she realized she forgot her scarf. Silva ordered her to come to the front with the other First Years, separating her from Tamao. It made her heart twinge. Just as the icy wind entered her heavy cape, she felt a warm scarf wrap itself around her throat. She turned to the classmate who was kind enough to lend her the scarf, ready to insist they shouldn’t, and almost choked on the Slytherin smile of the one she liked the least.

“Hao,” Silva warned.

Instead of cowering, the Head Boy met and held his teacher’s gaze with a shifty smile and walked away towards his own House. Jeanne couldn’t believe it. That he would bother her, that he would provoke and tease, why not. (Please, not.) But with a teacher! The deputy Headmaster, on top of that!

She was so shaken she realized way too late that it was his scarf around her neck. White, warm, soft, but diabolical! She couldn’t give it back to him right then, and it would be stupid to take if off when she was so cold. But she would be in his debt. He might catch something without it. He’d have earned it, too, said a voice in her head, but she found it strangled by her own instincts to be good.

“It’s so cold! Couldn’t they hurry up,” Fred growled at her side.

“It’s not six yet,” Padma countered.

“Almost. They won’t be long,” Ann added.

Jeanne started to shift from one foot to the other, blowing on her hands to keep them warm. She could not determine whether it was better to blow on them or keep them in her pockets. Next time on top of her own scarf she would think about gloves. Ann next to her did not seem bothered, but she was well-equipped: she had on gloves, earmuffs, boots, scarves, her winter coat and a fur hood. It had to help.

“The Beauxbâtons delegation is here,” Luchist said. “Ever so punctual,” he added, with a smirk that was very rare on his face.

Jeanne immediately looked to the skies.

“Eighteen hundred, exactly," Padma commented, as a gigantic coach drawn by giant horses descended from the skies, gliding over the treetops.

 _Marco_.

She felt her heart beat faster. Suddenly there was no fear nor apprehension, just the terrible need to see him again.

The horses and the coach behind them landed gracefully in the middle of the park, raising a cloud of dust.

“Like Cinderella,” Susan said, starstruck.

Jeanne’s heart twanged painfully as she recognized the golden blazon of Beauxbâtons on the coach doors – two wands crossed like an X, each throwing three stars – but it stopped when they opened for him.

He wore his traditional white wizard garb, with the wands of his school sewn in black on his back, and golden stars on the hem of the robe. His blond hair was perfect, like it always was, combed and drawn towards the back of his head, shaved close on the back of his neck.

He put his feet on the ground, pushed his glasses back on his nose, and before even greeting Luchist he looked for her in the first row of pupils.

Their gazes met and a soft warmth settled in her stomach. Her heart beat a little faster. Marco stopped, for not even half a second; the draft of a smile ghosted on his lips; and then finally he turned towards the Headmaster of Hogwarts.

The Housemasters started clapping, immediately followed by the pupils, and Jeanne clapped so hard her palms hurt.

Luchist did not clap, but he shook Marco’s hand, a firm handshake as both men stared at each other.

“Marco.”

“Luchist.”

A short pause between them; the clapping faded.

“Have you had a nice trip?”

“Very good,” Marco said, curtly.

“Your pupils,” Luchist added, nodding towards the dozen pupils in while currently getting out of the coach behind their Headmaster.

Behind them, Jeanne recognized Meene and John. They must have been picked as the escort; she was glad she would be able to see them.

“Pupils,” Marco piped up, a little louder. “Luchist Lasso, Headmaster of Hogwarts.”

The pupils nodded politely at him.

“It is my pleasure to welcome you to Hogwarts,” Luchist said, in perfect French, as he gestured towards the castle behind them.

Jeanne saw a few look worriedly at the building, in spite of the shawls, scarves and hats that masked the faces. Some of them seemed familiar; most certainly pupils she had met before. Maybe she had talked to them.

“We expected you to come via the lake,” Luchist added.

“We fit in the coach without needing the ship,” Marco said coldly.

The two men did not have time to continue their polite conversation. All the children were looking up, watching as a cluster of flying elephants appeared in the orange sky. Each bore a nacelle.

Jeanne opened wide eyes as they approached. On each elephant she could see three people.

“Elephants! Do you believe it? Elephants,” Fred was saying, completely in awe.

“They’re showing up Beauxbâtons’ coach,” a Second Year said from behind them.

 _It’s not a competition_ , Jeanne thought, a little piqued in spite of herself.

The elephants landed with a lot more noise than the horses, making the ground shake and the winged beasts shriek.

“Sâti,” Luchist called respectfully as he made his way towards the first of the elephants, the one whose platform was the most majestic. On it stood a young woman of unbelievable beauty. She wore silk and jewelry. The two younger women with her found the ground quickly, slipping down the flanks of their beast before helping the princess down.

Sâti gracefully touched the ground and raised the translucent veil that covered her face, revealing clear eyes and a long blond braid that rested on her shoulder.

“Luchist,” she greeted, smiling.

The Headmaster bowed at the waist, raising his hand as if to kiss hers. Instead the princess grabbed his and shook it firmly, taking Luchist by surprise. Jeanne noted the carefully subdued smirk on Marco’s lips, and Luchist’s stifled chuckle. She knew them both too well.

“Let me present to you my students, as well as Samy and Mamy, my assistants.”

Behind her, the Gandhara students were all climbing down from their massive steeds.

“Welcome to Hogwarts, Luchist told them, before looking back towards Sâti and Marco.

“Our caretaker, Mrs Bismach, will take care of the horses. For the elephants, Mr Ryunosuke will manage.”

Jeanne looked for them among the teachers and saw them walk towards the animals. Ryu was apparently struggling to wake from a reverie that involved Sâti, while Kanna grimaced as she slowly made her way towards the horses. Jeanne was too far to hear, but she and Marco shared a few words. Kanna glared at him.

“If you would please follow me,” Luchist offered, politely, as he gave his arm to Sâti.

She took it with a smile and the both of them moved towards the castle, followed by the Gandhara students clustered in unorderly groups.

Marco took the helm of the Beauxbâtons contingent, the pupils all walking with the same rhythm in rows behind him. Meene and John closed the ranks.

Then, finally, Silva led the Gryffindor behind the Beauxbâtons, followed by Karim, Chrom, and Namari, respectively leading the Hugglepuffs, Ravenclaws and Slytherins.

When Jeanne entered the Great Hall, Marco and Sâti were taking their spots at the teachers’ table next to Luchist and two other people she had never seen before. They did look like Patch members, maybe? Meene and John sat towards the right, in between Reiheit and Mikihisa. Mamy and Samy were on the left, with Tepes, Kanna and the Rune teacher with the turban she never remembered the name of. Tamao had told her several times, though. The contingent of Gandhara students was sitting at the Hugglepuff table, while Beauxbâtons sat with Ravenclaw.

Jeanne followed Fred and Susan to the Gryffindor table and sat with her First-Year friends.

When everyone was settled, Luchist stood and embraced the room with his eyes.

“Good evening to all and welcome to Hogwarts. I hope that during the months to come you all find in this castle a home and create many wonderful memories. Now, let us enjoy our feast. The Triwizard tournament shall officially begin at the end of this Feast.”


	17. Chatter Around

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She smelled like soap. No perfume.

Hao watched the plates appear on the table with a complete lack of interest. In front of him Macchi immediately dove in. She’d skipped lunch to finish an essay she was late on and must be hungry enough to eat the whole table’s worth of food; though she continually harassed Kanna she still hadn’t stolen the secret of the kitchen and neither Kanna nor Hao was willing to tell her. They much preferred to let her search for it herself.

On his right, Mari started picking through her food. Nothing unusual there. A few seats away, Nichrom hadn’t even looked at the dishes.

Hao took gyozas, some tonkatsu and eggplants – today would be a Japanese food day, he’d decided. He was savoring it when Nichrom’s frown drew his gaze. The young boy had yet to look away from the teacher’s table, thoroughly puzzled by the presence of the Ministry officials.

“Bron is the Department of International Magical Cooperation, and Radim that of Sports,” he said out loud, making Nichrom jump in his seat. “They are the ones who organized the Triwizard Tournament.”

The young Patch boy flushed and ducked towards his plate. His empty plate. He had to look up to fill it, which drew a few snickers from around the table.

“I didn’t know there were Patch at the Ministry,” Andrew Roussel noted. He was sitting next to Macchi, and he was from her set, too.

“Goldova Patch, does that ring a bell,” she immediately snarked. “You know, the old feathery bat who is our current Ministry of Magic?”

Just like Nichrom before him the boy flushed and grumbled that he meant no other Patchs than Goldova, but he wasn’t fooling anyone.

While eating, Hao kept an eye on Sâti, gauging the Headmistress. One time their gazes met, and he gave her a smile that she replied to briefly, before turning back to Silva, who was offering her wine.

Hao did not look away.

“Mari is bored,” his young charge sighed. She was sitting opposite him.

“Really?” He could not hold his amusement. “Just when things are finally starting to get interesting?”

Mari just made a face.

* * *

The meal was ending when Hao stretched, scanning the teachers’ table. Denbat looked away too late, and Marco was really putting too much effort in not looking at the Slytherin table. Already enjoying what he had in mind, Hao stood nonchalantly. He left behind his green tea ice cream to cross the Great Hall. He was in no hurry, and he knew that he drew attention from both students and teachers alike. Used to it, not bothered by it, on the contrary! It was the goal, after all.

Arriving to the Gryffindor table, he smiled when he saw that Maxwell-Lasso hadn’t noticed him. She must be the only one. In her defense, she had her back to him, and was fully taken by the discussion she was having with the boy opposite him, even as he stared at the approaching shark, mouth slack. Jeanne’s table neighbor had to elbow her out of her chatter, and then she finally noticed him.

Turning around, she faced him, challenge in her eyes and in the way her chin rose.

“Yes,” she asked, with all the poise of a queen.

Ah, Jeanne, Jeanne, Jeanne…

Hao took the time to stare at her for a few seconds, his eyes gleaming, but she seemed to refuse to understand why he was there.

“I came for my scarf.”

His words had her turn strawberry red, all the way from the tip of her nose to the roots of her hair. A nice match to her eyes.

She quickly looked away and unwound the offending fabric from her shoulders.

“Thank you,” she murmured dejectedly.

“No, thank you,” Hao said as he took the scarf from her, his voice loud and clear.

From the corner of his eye he saw Marco choke on his pumpkin juice.

With a blinding smile he winked to the Headmaster’s daughter and calmly returned to his table. He did not push his luck for a glance at Marco but did bring the scarf to his face. Pure provocation.

She smelled like soap. No perfume.

At the edge of his field of vision he saw Marco turn from red to white. Montgomery was firmly holding on to Denbat to keep him from rising.

Oh, well… What did they expect, sending him their protégée?

Luchist stood when Hao sat.

He introduced Bron and Radim, generating polite applause, then let the latter launch into a speech.

“Good evening, dearest pupils!”

His enthusiastic voice rang across the Great Hall. He used to be a very famous sports commentator for Quidditch matches and no doubt they would get his wonderful opinions during the Tournament trials. Hopefully he had cleaned up a little the vocabulary that made him famous…

“… We are very proud to welcome this year on our British ground the Triwizard Tournament. This event has been met with a great international recognition and binds young wizards and witches everywhere around the world in a competition based on respect, excellence and friendship. All young people older than seventeen may apply to represent their school during this exceptional tournament…”

Part of Hao’s brain stopped focusing on the speech. After all, he had seen the script before. The five jurors, the selection process for the school Champions, the magical contract binding the designated Champions, the risks, the reward for the victor, the exams pushed back to September for the Champions… He knew all of that.

His eyes found Marco, who was staring at him coldly. He allowed himself a smile, and of course got no reply, and then shifted to Sâti. The Gandhara Headmistress was interesting and would no doubt bring a lot more trouble. Or rather, not trouble… But unpredictability.

The two assistants at her side had this false quiet air that made him want to dig deeper. He had wondered if she would have an escort; hadn’t been able to know who that would be beforehand. Because it was an escort, wasn’t it?

The pupils of Beauxbâtons and Gandhara sat quiet and attentive, back straight like little ‘i's dotting the benches, all their eyes on Radim who droned on and on and on. At the Gryffindor table, Jeanne still had her back to him. She wasn’t hard to pick out with her long white hair, but Hao couldn’t see if her flush had gone away or if she was still embarrassed.

He did see Tamao, who glanced lovingly towards the Hugglepuff table.

 _Yoh_ , he thought immediately, and he looked for his twin in the crowd.

He was turned towards the teachers’ table and his eyes were unfocused. No doubt his fiancée or his best friend would be able to sum up the speech for him; he could sleep through it with no consequences.

The thought made Hao laugh. He had to admit, he felt affection towards his brother.

Radim finally finished his speech as Bron brought the Cup to the center of the esplanade, in front of the teachers’ table. Enthusiastic cheers rose from the Great Hall, but Hao only let out an exasperated sigh.

The honor to draw the age limit around the Cup was given to Sâti. It would keep minors from participating. Then, once she was sat back down, Luchist stood again. “Now, a word to our guests. Two wings have been prepared specifically to welcome you. I invite Beauxbâtons pupils to follow Mrs Bismarck, while the pupils of Gandhara should accompany Mr Ryunosuke. They will lead you to your rooms, which will be protected by a password. And good night to all.”

Immediately the room exploded in chatter, and Hao let out another sigh. He thought of going to his Common Room but preferred to follow the plan and made for the teachers’ table.

“Lo… Mr Asakura,” Bron greeted him, keeping in the ‘Lord’ that burned his lips right at the edge of sound. Hao responded with a nod and a warm smile. Radim let out a sound that was half-growl and half-‘good evening’ before stepping away.

“Marco,” the Head Boy said.

He thought for a second Marco would ignore him, but he turned his head.

“Hao.”

Icy as always.

He wanted to mention Jeanne. To push him to anger. Fire caught in his eyes and he saw the other man grow tense. But before he could open his mouth Mikihisa stepped in.

“Professor Maxwell, if you allow me, I can lead you to your appartments.”

The man threw one last thunderous look at Hao. His father gave him a warning glare. Or at least Hao thought he did. It was hard to say, with the mask…

“Good night,” Hao said placidly before turning on his heels.

He met Yoh’s gaze. His twin had seen the whole exchange. Hao forced on a smile and crossed the Great Hall towards the exit. Yoh looked away at McDonnel’s call; no doubt the friend wondered why Yoh was standing there silently.

Macchi and Mari had waited on him. They followed him towards the dungeons. Just when they were about to reach the hallway, he saw Anna, who was talking to Pirika. She didn’t have anymore bags under her eyes.


	18. Eight o'clock sharp

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I can’t, Tamao?” And Hao’s voice was smooth. Like poison.

Jeanne was unable to reign in her impatience, sat as she was in the Gryffindor Common Room. She knew it was early – well, relatively early for the week-end – but still! She felt like everyone else, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, was already up and gone for breakfast to see who would drop their name in the Triwizard Cup. And she was here, sitting in a chair, twisting her hands and kicking her legs, thoroughly unable to focus on her homework or a book or anything!

But she was waiting on Tamao. Tamao who, clearly, was still asleep.

She straightened up like a shot when she noticed a few Fourth Years heading for the exit and practically ran to them.

“Good morning, sorry?”

Two girls, one Indian with a long black braid and one redhead with grey eyes, turned towards her.

“Do you know if Tamao is still in her dorm? I mean your dorm?”

Perhaps Tamao had risen before her. Perhaps she was already down in the Great Hall, wondering where she was.

The redhead had a gentle smile. “Yes, she’s the last one upstairs. She was still asleep when we left.”

Oh.

“Ah, thank you."

The other girl’s eyes gleamed when she smiled.

“You could go wake her up.”

“Oh.”

The idea had never come to Jeanne. She was a First Year, it made sense to her that she would only have access to her year’s dormitories. That was how she thought about it, but…

The girls left the common room, leaving Jeanne to her thoughts. Now that the idea was in her mind, she could not deny she really wanted to do it. But in spite of her temptation she wasn’t sure she could. It just wasn’t done. And what would Tamao think?

And yet… to go and wake Tamao up was a ridiculously seductive idea. And then they could both go down for breakfast. And it was almost eight. And she was hungry!

Jeanne did not sit back down. Instead, moving slowly like in a dream, she made her way up. She arrived on the first landing but did not stop at her door. She continued upwards until she reached the fourth floor. Then she read the names on the door. _Sanna Bilis. Brit Karlsen. Agata Moore. Ajita Petrov. Iris Ruben. Tamao Tamamura._

Jeanne balanced on her heels for a few moments before she went for it. Now that she was here, right?

She slowly opened the door and slid into the room.

The Fourth Year dorms were exactly like that of the First. Same size, same furniture, same canopy beds… Except there were six here, and not four. Some were completely undone, some carefully made. And one still held its sleeping inhabitant under the blankets.

Jeanne made her every step silent as she arrived at Tamao’s side. She thought of waking her up with a good pillow hit but, one, it was really childish – what would Marco say? – and, two, now that she was looking at Tamao’s soft face the very idea was sacrilege.

“Tamao,” she whispered.

The dreamer did not react. Jeanne put her hand on her shoulder and gently shook her.

“Tamao?” Her voice grew small.

This time, her elder moved a little. Her eyelids slowly opened, and she blinked a few times. Jeanne smiled radiantly before going over to throw the curtains open, drawing sunlight into the room.

Instead of hiding under the blanket like a normal person would have – like Jeanne would have – Tamao pushed her blankets back and sat up. She hid her mouth to yawn, then rubbed her eye. Jeanne simply watched, saying nothing. This felt soft.

“J-Jeanne,” Tamao ended up asking.

“Hey. You are the last one in bed, so I came to fetch you. Ready for breakfast?”

Tamao did not answer immediately, clearly putting order into her thoughts.

“What time is it?”

“Ten past eight.”

The sleeping girl nodded, then shifted out of bed, grabbed a few things from her bag and stumbled towards the bathroom.

“I’ll be quick,” she said sleepily.

“I’ll wait,” Jeanne replied as she sat back down.

Ten minutes went by. Jeanne looked at the sketchbook on her nightstand curiously, but did not dare touch it. Then Tamao was back. She had put on her robes, done her hair, and after quickly grabbing black sneakers from under the bed she was shoed.

Jeanne stood from the bed and smiled at her before starting towards the door. They left the Gryffindor Common Room and made for the Great Hall.

“Thank you for coming to get me,” Tamao said shyly as they reached the sixth floor.

“It was my pleasure,” Jeanne replied. “I hope it did not bother you?"

“Not at all,” her friend said quickly, and a ball of warmth bloomed in Jeanne’s chest.

* * *

A few minutes later, the warmth had all but gone and Jeanne was keeping in a face as they reached the Entrance Hall. From the stairs to the dungeons, a group of Slytherins had just appeared. Hao was helming it, closely followed by the two girls she didn’t like – red and blond hair telltale signs of their identities.

A Sixth or Seventh Year that Jeanne did not know was questioning Hao.

“Will you put your name in the Cup? I’m sure they’ll pick you.”

“Of course,” Hao said. Jeanne wished she could make him eat his arrogant tongue.

“You can’t."

Jeanne froze when she heard Tamao next to her. Her classmate had stopped and was staring at Hao. Jeanne stared at her, bewildered. She simply could not believe it.

Tamao, her Tamao who so often stuttered, avoided everyone’s eyes and avoided conflicts above all had just… Jeanne didn’t have the words to describe what she had just done. She was just standing there, back straight and frozen, face resolute, eyes riveted to Hao. After having just interrupted him and his classmate.

“I can’t, Tamao?” And Hao’s voice was smooth. Like poison.

Jeanne turned to the Slytherin and felt goosebumps race up her arms. There was something like… an aura around him. A dangerous one. Every Slytherin had taken steps back, too.

Fire had caught in his eyes and he was staring at Tamao. From the corner of her eye Jeanne saw Tamao trembling but she didn’t look away. She was staring back.

Hao advanced on her slowly and Jeanne felt her own apprehension spike. Why… why did he cause that in her? He was only a student, like them. Maybe he was in his last year and he knew more spells than they did together, but it wasn’t like he would attack them. In the Entrance Hall pupils and teachers constantly walked through? No. So then why did she feel like she was in danger?

And most importantly, what had gone through Tamao’s head? Why had she intervened? Why couldn’t Hao try his hand at the tournament? He was old enough!

He was only steps away now.

“I will put my name in the Cup, I will be chosen as Champion, and I will win,” he said in a tone that admitted no reply. Jeanne could feel the thousands of threats in him.

Tamao did not reply but she did not blink, still staring back.

After a moment that to Jeanne felt like an eternity, a smirk appeared on Hao’s lips, and he turned away. Immediately the tension vanished, and the Head Boy walked placidly to the Great Hall. Like nothing ever happened.

Jeanne shyly glanced at Tamao, who was staring daggers at Hao’s back. Then she looked away. Her shoulders relaxed. She sighed. She seemed exhausted, but Jeanne could only admire her. Whatever reasons she had to confront Hao, it… it was very brave on her part. Maybe it was connected to the Asakura family. Tamao perhaps wanted Hao to stand back so Yoh could run? She didn’t think that explanation was satisfactory but she had no other idea at the moment.

“Tamao?”

Empty eyes flicked back to her.

“Let’s go eat,” she said weakly.

Jeanne nodded and did not pursue the matter. She took her friend’s hand and led her into the Great Hall.

It was no surprise that all the tables were full and that the Hall was almost electric. Jeanne had never seen such excitement here. Everyone was looking at the Triwizard Cup, nestled as it was on the Head table. In front of them the Slytherin pupils walked diagonally towards their table, except Hao, who went straight for the Cup.

He dropped in a bit of paper that was swallowed by the fire. Then, before heading to his table, he glanced at them and smirked. Jeanne guessed it was meant for Tamao. The older girl shivered when she saw it.

Jeanne gently led her away and went to sit with the Gryffindors. She wanted to question her, she really did; but she refrained. Tamao looked really sick, hunched over and glassy-eyed, she held her head low. Jeanne bit her lip and squeezed her hand; her friend did the same.

“Hey girls, how are you?” Damuko greeted them with a smile. “I think there’s no more apricot jam on this table, but if you want some, Jeanne, I think the Hufflepuffs still have it.”

“Thank you, Damuko, I will do with what’s on our table,” she smiled, as she grabbed the plate of toast. “Do you know if many students have already put their names in the Cup?”

“All the Beauxbâtons this morning. They went one by one in rows of two, with their Headmaster there daring them to step one toe out of line. He doesn’t strike me as the super relaxed type? Oh,” and there her tone lightened, “there’s Kwan for Gryffindor. No Ravenclaws yet, but Hao just now for Slytherin, and Amel this morning. Hugglepuff has Yoh and Chocolove.”

“Chocolove?” Jeanne frowned. “Isn’t he a Sixth Year?”

“He turned seventeen in October,” Damuko explained. “Horo-Horo is still angry that he’ll be seventeen in November – so he’ll be too late.”

“Will Anna try it?” Jeanne was spreading her strawberry jam on her toast, and wondered out loud. “She is Head Girl, after all.”

“If so, she hasn’t applied yet,” the ghost said. “In Ravenclaw, apart from the Seventh Years, there’s Manta who could try, but Mosuke said he wasn’t interested.”

“Neither is Anna,” Tamao added.

Jeanne was glad to see she was well enough to speak.

“She doesn’t like that kind of thing. She would rather support Yoh.”

Damuko nodded.

“And the Gandhara…” Jeanne wondered.

“They’re coming along slowly. I don’t think they’ve all applied yet. But they still have all day!”


	19. The Hogwarts Champion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “If your name comes out, stand and walk to this room, where you will receive your Champion’s instructions.”

Jeanne and Tamao stayed sat in the Great Hall all morning, talking about nothing and everything as they watched the Triwizard Cup. Every time a Hogwarts student came in or rose to leave, the game was to guess as to whether or not they’d put their name in the Cup. They lost often but had fun.

As noon came around, the dishes changed. Muffins and jams vanished in favor of spaghetti, potatoes, roasts and green beans. Horo-Horo made an odd appearance. His face was drawn and he had big blue bags under his eyes. Behind him was a boy Tamao saw for the very first time, with light hair and a tan face. He seemed their age and wore a long orange cloth that fell like a shift over him, as well as a lot of golden jewelry around his neck and his arms. The bindi on his forehead claimed him for the Gandhara.

Horo-Horo crumpled on the seat next to Jeanne, who made a funny face as the stranger happily greeted them.

"Hello hello! My name is Dainichi, it’s very nice to make your acquaintance. Are you friends of Horokeu Usui?"

“Yes,” Jeanne said, gathering her bearings.

Tamao blinked a few times. Her eyes must have been playing tricks on her, because when she looked at Dainichi, she felt like she saw the Hugglepuff table behind him. Like he was transparent.

“Are you from the Gandhara,” Jeanne asked, skeptically, and Tamao guessed she had the same doubts.

"No, I am no student. I am Lady Sâti’s guardian spirit.” He laughed mischieviously. “Do you want to know why I’m here?”

Jeanne nodded.

“Horokeu Usui thought he could walk through the age limit Lady Sâti drew. I am here to remind him every minute that he was wrong,” he smiled widely.

“Really?”

“This bore has been following me since midnight,” he growled. “I haven’t been able to get a wink of sleep.”

Dainichi seemed especially delighted at that.

Looking closely, Tamao finally understood what he meant when he said guardian spirit. He wasn’t that silver translucent color that characterized the ghosts of Hogwarts, like Damuko, or Amidamaru. From afar he could have been mistaken for a human being, but up close his face was just a bit blurry.

“If you tried to cheat, you deserve this,” Jeanne said plainly.

“But I never wanted to cheat,” Horo-Horo cried, sitting up suddenly. He almost tipped the water pot over. “It’s all because of that dumbass Ren!”

Jeanne glared at him condescendingly. It was clear she did not believe him.

Tamao asked gently: “What happened?”

“We went to see the Cup,” Horo-Horo started.

“In the middle of the night,” Dainichi added.

“Just to see it up close! And to support Yoh. He wanted to put his name in, we were his mates, it made sense. And then Ren started taunting me, saying I wouldn’t dare step on the line!”

Tamao guessed what followed.

“What would you have done in my place?”

“I would have ignored him,” Jeanne said haughtily.

“I put a foot in the circle to show I had the guts,” he said, at the exact same time.

“And here I was,” Dainichi smiled. “Horokeu Usui now has the privilege of having me behind him until tonight to be a constant reminder that it is wrong to cheat.”

“But I didn’t cheat,” he yelled, both in rage and despair. Tamao leaned back a little, while Jeanne smirked in satisfaction.

“What if another pupil tried to go through? Would you leave Horo-Horo to torment them?”

“If only,” Horo-Horo wailed, before smooshing his head against the table. These last words had emptied him of all energy, it seemed.

“Oh, no, there’s a lot of us,” Dainichi laughed. “I saw Acala and Asura following other pupils. But unless we are all asked for, I will not have to leave Horokeu Usui.”

Jeanne gave a nod to show she understood.

“Let me change the topic. I heard there was a ghost called Damuko who’d know a lot of interesting gossip about Horokeu Usui. Could you introduce me?”

Tamao really felt for Horo-Horo.

* * *

That night the Great Hall was filled to bursting with tension. All day had been, really. The very walls seemed to be crackling with energy. Tamao had not managed to focus on the materials she was supposed to be going over. Nor had she found enough peace to draw. She could have gone and hidden in her dorm; there maybe she would have managed. But she wanted to stay with Jeanne and Jeanne was clearly made for this arena. As a consequence, the two girls had spent the day partly in their Common Room to chat with the other pupils about the candidates and their chances to be named Champion, and partly watching the Gandhara students. The latter all seemed very nice. Jeanne was avoiding as well as she could the Beauxbâtons delegation. Tamao did wonder if she was doing it on purpose or if it was an instinctive reaction.

When tea was brought up the pupils were too tense to really dive in. Everyone seemed to pick at their plates; they were all waiting for the Champions to be designated.

When Professor Lasso rose, the silence was nigh immediate in the Great Hall. Like everyone else, Tamao twisted her neck to get a glance of the Triwizard Cup.

“It’s about to be time,” the Headmaster announced as he walked towards the Cup. “If your name comes out, stand and walk to this room, where you will receive your Champion’s instructions.”

He pointed to a door behind the Head table.

Then he fell silent, and the room with him. Then whispers started up among the pupils, and without intervention from the teachers they grew; Jeanne turned towards Tamao. She had her mouth open, but froze when a large flame rose from the Cup. The silence was immediate.

Professor Lasso raised his hand over the flame and, as it vanished, grabbed the paper that shot out of it.

“For Beauxbâtons, Pedro Gomez.”

Loud clapping followed the words. A tall, tan guy in a white wizard’s robe rose from the Ravenclaw table and proudly walked to the Head table. He made his way behind it and the calm returned.

Not too long after, a second tongue of flame rose from the Cup. Just like before the Headmaster snatched parchment out of it.

“For Gandhara, Ouiza Morsi.”

Cheers erupted once more as the girl rose from the Hufflepuff table. She made her way to the Head table, turned to bow to the crowd, and made her way around to the room behind it.

The cheering took a little longer to die off and this time they could not get everyone to quiet down. The Triwizard Cup was about to select the Hogwarts Champion and the pupils just could not keep their nerves. Everyone wished they would be from their House, to the sole exception of Tamao.

She wished, she wished from the bottom of her heart that Yoh would be the one selected. But a voice inside her sneered at the thought, whispered that it would be Hao’s name out of that cup. He was cheating and it was so, so unfair, but that was the way things would be. Even if she still hoped…

A third time the Cup spat blood-red flames and a slip of parchment shot up. Tamao closed her eyes.

“For Hogwarts, Hao Asakura.”

* * *

When Tamao climbed to her dorm that night she was exhausted. She had felt ill since her argument with Hao that morning, but to hear his name tonight had finished the job. She could still see him, with that fake smile of him, casually walking to the Champions’ room in the loud cheer of his school.

“With him as our Champion, I’d bet my arm Hogwarts will win the tournament,” she had heard Kyle Craig tell Brit Karlsen. And Sanna Bilis sighed enamoredly after him. It was all too much.

Jeanne realized Tamao was off when they climbed to their Common Room after dinner.

“You would rather it wasn’t Hao, wouldn’t you,” she asked directly.

Tamao could see the real question on her face, but she couldn’t tell her the truth. She couldn’t explain to Jeanne why it was such a problem that Hao was a Champion of the Triwizard Tournament. So she had sidestepped the question.

“I would rather it was Yoh,” she said simply. And Jeanne wasn’t stupid. Tamao knew she knew it wasn’t the true reason and there was something else. But Jeanne had not pushed it, and Tamao was grateful for that.

She flopped on her bed, exhausted. Absently staring at the cream draperies above her bed, she relived the morning confrontation. Hao was really… She didn’t have the words.

When Professor Lasso announced his name, she had glanced at Mikihisa, but he hadn’t seemed to react. Of course, it was always difficult to know what he thought. As for Yoh, she hadn’t seen him all night, but knowing him he was no doubt happy for his brother. And yet… the fact that Hao ran was a problem, wasn’t it? It was cheating, wasn’t it? She would ask Anna. Anna would know what to do.

 _There’s nothing you can do_ , a voice said in her ear. The same one that had told her all day that Hao would be the Champion. _The best Anna will do is explain you can’t do anything._

 _Maybe_ , Tamao thought, _but I will still go talk to her_.

Rising, she instinctively grabbed for her sketchbook and flitted through the pages. She had started drawing Jeanne, recently. For now all she had were sketches, pencil lines, drafts, but she wanted to get something a little more finished. Perhaps she could ask her the permission to draw her on the go, when she was making the faces that were uniquely hers and that Tamao did her best to remember once she was alone with her blank pages. But that meant admitting she was trying to draw her, and she was not yet ready for that.

As she went through her notebook she found an old sketch of Yoh. She had the lines of his face, the forehead, the hairline, the eyes, the nose, the mouth. She felt the urge to finish it – no, to make something else out of it. Something different. Something she had never done before.

She started on the hair again, made it fall on the sides freely, not caring about strands or length. She forgot the ears, worked on the nose, erased the lines meant for the necklace. Then she drew the eyes up, twisted them a bit, erased, began again, sketched the irises, moved to the mouth. She changed the smile, went back to the eyes, darkened them a bit, erased, drew flames.

The dormitory doors opened to reveal Iris and Agata in deep discussion.

Tamao put her pencil down and glared critically at her drawing. Yes… yes, she had captured something. It was the fire, wasn’t it? Nobody could ever think this sketch was of Yoh.

Following her dormmates, Tamao put her notebook away, changed into her bedclothes and slipped into bed. Sleep came before long.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There it is!  
> I chose to stop this project here for the time being, because it made more logical sense to stop here than anywhere after. The original fic is still ongoing and I'd love if you could go show your appreciation to the writer on fanfiction.net. These times are tough for everyone and if I can get even one person to know of her work I'll be happy.  
> Let me know what you thought of these adventures!
> 
> EDIT: The art at the end there is Patteh's, from over there on tumblr: https://chousenjiryakketsu.tumblr.com/  
> It's beautiful and I'm so thankful for their illustration! Please go and give them love <3


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